Untitled A Cristian and Layla Story
by FoF
Summary: A story of possibilities. There's so much potential story to be told between the characters of Cristian Vega and Layla Williamson. Tune in to OLTL to see them together on the show.
1. Chapter 1

Untitled (Chapter 1)

_Ohhhhh, my God._ Layla held the pregnancy test between her thumb and forefinger. She swallowed hard. _No way. NO WAY._ She shook her head and swallowed again, placing the test on the bathroom counter and turning to sit on the plush lavender toilet seat cover, mouth completely ajar. _I do not believe this._ Her breath quickened. _Wait. Yes I do. You have sex with someone without a condom, you get pregnant._ She looked down to the floor and slowly shook her head back and forth yet again. _What the hell were you thinking, Layla? You weren't thinking. Vincent. Damn him!_ She rose from the toilet and walked like a zombie to her bedroom where she sat on the edge of her bed, mouth still open. Realizing she was sitting on the scene of the crime, she jumped off the bed and went to her dresser where she placed both hands to steady herself as her eyes focused on the slightly blistering green paint of the $25 piece of furniture she bought at the funky Village Discount store shortly after moving to Llanview. She felt sick to her stomach. And it wasn't from morning sickness. _Well, at least I can be grateful for that. No morning sickness._ She sighed and raised her eyes heavenward, taking another deep breath. "Okay," she spoke aloud. "What are you going to do?" God, how she missed her sister. She could really use her right now.

"Oh God." Her sister! She began pacing. What was she thinking? How would she have told her sister about this anyway? _Oh, hey Vange. Yeah, so I had comfort sex with Cristian, the guy you were crazy in love with before your daddy issues made you lose your mind, and now I'm pregnant and he's the father._ Her mind briefly wandered back to the time Evangeline accused her of sleeping with Cristian at the ski lodge and quickly shook the thought from her head. _I thought this kind of thing only happened on soap operas._ Tired of pacing, she started to sit back down on her bed but caught herself and instead moved to sit in the green and purple moon chair in front of her window. Hearing the front door open, Layla remembered the positive pregnancy test she left laying on the bathroom counter and ran to grab it before Adriana could find it. Finding it exactly where she left it, she quickly walked back to her bedroom and hid it underneath her lingerie in her top dresser drawer until she could get it out of the apartment without it being seen. _Hmpf. Guess I can say goodbye to the lingerie for awhile._

Adriana peeked her head into Layla's bedroom. "Hey girl."

"Hey." Layla breathed a sigh of relief as Adriana quickly found her way into the bathroom and shut the door without another word. "Okay," she spoke quietly to herself. "I need to get out of here and get some air before she notices something's off." Grabbing her purse by her bedroom door on her way out, Layla gave a quick knock on the bathroom door. "Hey. I'm going to run down to Mickey D's and get something to eat. You want anything?" she asked hoping the answer would be negative. She was hungry and needed to think and in a situation like this a girl needs to do that alone.

"No, I'm good. I just ate."

"Okay, I'll be back in a bit. Don't wait up." Grabbing her car keys off the kitchen counter, Layla headed towards the door.

Sitting alone in a corner booth at IHOP--her craving for a McDonald's double cheeseburger having waned--she fiddled with her Vive la French Toast, grateful that the restaurant served breakfast all day long so she could have her favorite meal while she wondered yet again how she ended up pregnant in the middle of October. The Deborah Cox song flashed in her mind: _I re-mem-ber, the day in Sep-tem-ber, when we...Fell in love? No. Fell in lust? No, that wasn't it either. Cristian._ She sighed as her thoughts continued.

She had to tell him. As much as she wanted to believe the test was wrong, she knew it wasn't. Her period had always brightened her day with its cramps and bloating like clockwork. In her 26 years, minus the ones pre-puberty, she had never missed her period, no matter how stressed she was. Oh, she was definitely pregnant. Probably a good six, seven weeks along. Trying to stave off the panic attack until she went to the doctor for a test to be sure wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. She knew her fate already.

When her period hadn't come with ringing bells, she wouldn't let her mind wander back to that night. She just wouldn't. She knew it had to be stress, even though she wasn't really that stressed. She hadn't seen Vincent in weeks and with his absence came peace. Avoiding the "Your ass is pregnant" thought like the plague, she continued with her daily business with work at Craze, even seeing Cristian on occasion though not as often as before "It" happened, and decided that if her period didn't come when it was due the next time--as if it could just be a freak occurrence that her body decided to give her a break and skip one--she'd buy a pregnancy test. That time came and last night, she bought the most expensive one in the store and promised herself that she'd take it the next day.

So, here she was, sitting in IHOP with some cold french toast, pregnant with Cristian Vega's baby. _Cris._ Her best friend outside of Evangeline and Adriana. Her sweet and sexy as hell best friend. Her sister's ex-boyfriend. _Damn, I really fucked up this time._ Her thoughts wandered back to that night...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_7 1/2 weeks earlier_

She was sitting in her moon chair, staring out the window into the night sky, her eyes puffy and brimming with moisture. That was it. The last straw. First, he'd set Cristian up to lose the title match while playing everybody, including her, for a fool with his fake sincerity about Cris' boxing future. Then he'd had some strange, unexplained fascination with Natalie Buchanan. Next it was accusing Cris of arsons those racist bastards who put her sister in a coma were responsible for. So why did she give him another chance? She sighed. Vincent was beautiful on the outside and could be so sweet when he wanted to be. Cris had forgiven him and let all the anger go because that was just how Cris was. And after Evangeline had gone comatose, Vincent had been there for her. He had promised her that if she needed anything, anything at all, he'd be there for her. And he meant it. Sure, she had Adriana and Cris but her sister wasn't the easiest subject to converse with them about considering Adriana would fight to the death for her cousin and Evangeline had hurt him terribly. Neither Cris nor Adriana had given her any indication that she couldn't talk with them about Evangeline but she tried not to speak about her too much in their presence unless they broached the subject. While Cris would never say a bad word about Evangeline, she felt he had to feel at least some resentment towards her. Being cheated on with the likes of Todd Manning had to hurt. Even a regular jackass would feel insulted about that one and Cristian was as far from a jackass as a man could be.

During one of Vincent's visits to check up on her, he had planted one of those soul-searing kisses on her that had made her forget her name _and_ her mama's, and it had marked a return to their romance. Things had been going well until Natalie Buchanan broke her nail. Okay, not exactly. She'd been trying to run Buchanan Enterprises after Asa's passing and was having more than a little bit of trouble with her lack of experience and a bitter twin sister sabotaging her at every turn. So off went Vincent Jones to the rescue. _Cue super-hero music._ Try as she might, Layla couldn't even be mad at the redhead. Natalie didn't ask Vincent for any help--he ran to help as fast as his skinny little chicken legs could carry him as soon as he got wind of her troubles. Layla had shrugged it off until she walked in on them taking care of some business. And not the kind that involved phones, computers, and ledgers, although it did involve a desk. Burning with anger and determined not to cry, she had turned and quickly left, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh making her stomach turn. Thinking better of it and feeling the need to lash out, she had decided to give them the shock of their horny little lives. Quietly, she had opened the door again, grabbed the glass vase on the end table by the entryway, and threw it against the wall in their direction as hard as she could so that it shattered into a million pieces and startled the hell out of them, watching the look of horror on their faces as they scrambled to face the direction from which the glass had been thrown. It was nothing short of a Kodak moment. Satisfied, she turned and left and went home to her empty apartment.

As she sat in her chair facing the window, her mind raced with thoughts of how she was going to make him pay. She saw herself in Angela Bassett's place as his clothes burned on his car behind her. She saw herself in Kathy Bates' place as she broke Vincent's two little twigs in half. She saw herself as Lorena Bobbitt as she...Nah. She wasn't that crazy.

She heard a knock at the door. _Who the hell is that? It's 9 o'clock._ Not in the mood to be bothered with anyone and fearing it was Vincent, who she was afraid she'd do some serious physical harm to, she ignored the knocking.

"Layla? I see your car outside. You in there?" The knocking continued.

It was Cristian. And he sounded exhausted. Even through the door she could tell. She sighed wondering if she should answer it. _Forget it. He saw my car so he knows I'm in here._ Climbing off the purple and green chair, she quickly grabbed a few more tissues and turned on the light in her bedroom and stepped to the mirror to check her appearance. Yeah, she looked like hell. Cris was going to ask what was wrong. _Damn._ She flipped off the light.

"Layla?" Cristian was starting to worry. He knew Adriana was out of town tying up loose ends in their sale of Exposed. The thrill of the company had left them both when they realized they'd had a KKK baseball player modeling their underwear. _Is she in the bathroom? At a neighbor's? Something worse? Wait, she's probably at Vincent's. Maybe he picked her up._ Wanting to make sure so that he didn't regret leaving later on, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and started to roam through the list of recent calls in search of her number when the door opened.

"Hey. Sorry it took me so long." _She looks like hell. And that's not an easy feat_, he thought as the already present worry lines deepened in his forehead.

_He looks like hell. And that's not easy for him,_ she thought as she took in his appearance. He looked like his world had fallen apart. "What's wrong?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." Not waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside the apartment and closed and locked the door behind him as Layla walked over to sit on the couch. He took a seat on the coffee table facing her. "Talk to me."

Layla shook her head slightly and looked away as tears threatened to fall again. Needing to change the subject before she fell apart, she turned to him and told him, "You first."

Cris stared at her unwaveringly, his look intense with concern. Knowing she was trying not to fall apart, he decided to tell her his reason for stopping by so late so she could compose herself. Then he would get her to tell him who had upset her so he could have some words with said person. "I forgot earlier. I wanted to bring you the key to my place so you can keep an eye on it for me while I'm gone." Layla already knew Antonio and Talia had taken Carlotta to Miami for a funeral.

Relieved he was taking the conversation elsewhere, she remembered his trip to New York City that was scheduled for tomorrow morning. "Oh, I completely forgot. Are you excited?" A genuine smile brightened her features.

Cristian immediately broke eye contact with her and glanced down at the carpet, his expression becoming more troubled. "I'm not going to New York." He sighed and stood up, strolling over to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. She had left the curtain open even though it was nighttime and anybody and their mama could see inside because she had been too upset upon entering her apartment to notice. She rose from the couch and walked to stand behind him. Continuing cautiously and speaking softly, she asked, "What happened?"

He leaned with one hand on the glass door and the other on his hip. He was wearing unfaded black jeans and a crisp, white button-down shirt rolled up to the elbows. Since it was the first day of September, it was still warm enough to warrant short sleeves. He took his hand from the door and turned around to face her, sighing deeply. "They canceled it. Just like that." He placed both hands on his hips and rocked on his heels, face turned downwards, jaw twitching.

"What?" Layla didn't know what to say. He'd finally been able to express himself on canvas in a way that wasn't hindered by his injured right hand and had been more excited than she'd ever seen him. Not long ago, Lindsey had gotten him into contact with a buyer in New York wanting to give him his own show at a world-renowned gallery. It was the first real commission he'd gotten in years and he was like a kid in a candy store in his studio as he worked on new pieces.

Cris shrugged and crossed his arms as he finally met her concerned eyes again. "Lindsey called a few hours ago. Said his assistant left a message for her saying it wasn't going to happen."

"Cris..." she shook her head slowly. "I'm so sorry." She met his defeated eyes once more, his expression tearing at her heartstrings.

He sighed. "Anyway, I need to get away for awhile, clear my head. I booked a flight to Puerto Rico for tomorrow morning instead." He smiled wistfully. "It's been so long since I've been there. Home." His smile quickly faded. "Not much for me here right now." Layla felt a pang in her stomach at the thought of him leaving. _Where did that come from?_ She felt awful for him. He had been through so damn much over the last few years she didn't know how he was still standing. She had never asked him about the year he was missing nor the time he spent in prison. She briefly wondered if he had ever opened up to anyone about it. One thing was for sure: this latest setback was yet another door slammed shut in his face after years of struggle and it broke her heart. He didn't deserve it. Damn, he didn't deserve it at all. She didn't want to see him break but the look in his eyes made her feel as though he might be nearing his breaking point. Any other man would have reached his long ago.

Clearing the thoughts from his mind, his brow furrowed with concern again. "So. You going to tell me what happened?" Her mouth fell open slightly as she remembered what she saw at BE today. She turned away from him and fought the tears again. _Shit, they weren't stopping._ Her shoulders shook as she gave up the battle with her disobedient tear ducts. Cristian approached her from behind and rubbed her shoulders, waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, he decided to probe. "Did something happen with Vincent?"

_Damn shame he knows. He ought to know about Vincent and his ways._ Cristian's hands fell from her shoulders as she turned around to face him, wiping the tears from her eyes. Clearing her throat, she decided to just spill it. "I walked in on Vincent and Natalie playing hide the beef jerky on her desk." Under any other circumstances, Cristian would have laughed at her referring to Vincent's dick as a prick. Instead, he wrapped his huge arms around her and rubbed her back in comforting concentric circles. Feeling inexplicably safer than she'd ever felt in a very long time, Layla couldn't fight the wave of hurt and anger engulfing her and the emotions released themselves by way of her tears. _That's it,_ Cristian thought. _I'm going to kick his fucking ass._

After several minutes, Layla, with her head still on his chest, continued, "What is wrong with me? What THE HELL is wrong with me??" She continued sobbing. "Why did I fall for it again?"

Cristian held her even tighter, rubbing her back again, hating Vincent for making her cry. He could not stand seeing a woman cry, especially not one who was too pretty not to be kept smiling and happy. "He's a jackass, Layla. Don't ever blame yourself for the actions of jackasses. The only thing "wrong" with you is you have a big heart. A beautiful _corazon_. People like him like to take advantage of that. But when you have a heart like that, they can never break your spirit. Never."

His words touched her heart. _Why did he have to be so wonderful? How could anyone possibly ever hurt him? Why was his life dealing him blow after blow?_ She pulled her head from his chest and looked into his eyes, not breaking their embrace. His soul was as beautiful as the vessel that housed it. Immediately, she hated the buyer in New York for trying to break his spirit and wished she had the power to make every dream he'd ever had come true. She shook her head back and forth once, not being able to stop the words threatening to tumble from her mouth. "How come I never meet any guys as wonderful as you?"

His heart swelled with the compliment and he stared deeply into her eyes. Bringing his right hand up to wipe the tears from the left side of her face, he wanted nothing more than to take her pain away. Her eyes were beckoning him, drawing him into the deep confines of her soul, and he found himself losing his grip on proper friendship etiquette. He wanted to make her feel better. He needed to make her feel better. She was as beautiful inside as she was out. She needed to know that. The pain he saw in her eyes from years of bad relationships was tearing him apart. Then, his thinking stopped.

Her thinking stopped.

All thinking ceased as he bent closely to her face and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Heart pounding in her chest, she opened her mouth slightly and latched onto his full bottom lip. Following her lead, Cristian pushed her lips further apart with his and deepened their kiss, his tongue hesitatingly finding hers as he brought his hands up to cup her face. This wasn't the time for thinking; they needed to feel. The kiss became more sensual as their tongues found a natural rhythm and sensations they'd never felt for one another before shot to places that were begging for attention. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her tongue from inside his mouth, deciding to run it along his lips before entering his mouth again.

She needed to feel him. Right now. As if sensing her need, Cristian pulled her lower body tightly against and broke their kiss, looking into her eyes. Missing the contact with his upper half, Layla parted his lips once again with hers, moaning as her tongue nestled comfortably inside his mouth again. Her fingers found the buttons on his shirt, hastily pulling it apart as quickly as she possibly could. Sliding it off his shoulders, he shook it off allowing it to fall to the floor. Immediately, he lifted her off of her feet with his large hands around her waist and she wrapped her legs around his torso, never breaking their kiss.

He quickly carried her into her bedroom, the moonlight streaming through the open window. Her legs still wrapped around his waist and her lips still attached to his, he climbed onto her bed on his knees and moved forward until they reached the center of the green and purple comforter. Laying her on her back, Layla unwrapped her legs from around his waist as he released her mouth and initiated a sensual assault on her neck, his hands sliding beneath her taupe camisole to take it off. She lifted her arms above her head and raised her upper body off the bed just enough for him to take the garment off. He resumed working on her neck with his mouth while his hands slid beneath her and unfastened her bra. Pulling it off, he kissed her lips again and brought his hands up to fondle her breasts. Using his thumbs, he circled each nipple repeatedly simultaneously, her moans of pleasure into his mouth turning him on even more. Needing to catch his breath, Cristian tore his mouth away from hers and slid down her body to unbutton her pants. He pulled them off, tossing them onto the floor, followed quickly by her panties. Needing to be released from the confines of his own jeans, he backed off of the bed completely and quickly removed his pants, black boxer briefs, black boots and socks. Watching him unabashedly, she felt her carnal desire for him spill over. Damn he was fine. And it was so not true what they said about very muscularly built men packing little below the waist. So. Not. True. Climbing back onto the bed and up her body, Cris paused at her breasts and laved his tongue around her right one before moving to her left. As he suckled and tongued her left nipple, he brought his left hand up to rub her right between his thumb and index finger while his right thumb slid down her wet slit, finding her clit. Oh yes, the man was coordinated. Her body twitched under his ministrations and her moans threatened to alert the entire building to what she was doing while her roommate was out of town. Slipping his middle finger inside of her, he pulled away from her breasts and watched her face as it contorted in response to his actions. His slipped his index finger inside her as well and continued to slide them in and out. In and out. In. And. Out. Faster. Slower. Faster. Slower. Slower. Slower.

She couldn't take it anymore. The teasing. _How was he hitting just the right spot? How did he know?_ She arched her back and panted, knowing she was about to explode in any second and wanting to feel him inside of her before it all ended. "Cris," she hissed. "Cris, hurry. Hurry." Pulling his fingers out of her, he climbed back on top of her and ravished her mouth as he positioned himself at her entrance. He rubbed the head of his penis against her wet opening, driving her completely insane. "Mmmmm, Cris. Now. Please. Now!" She gasped as he granted her wishes and slowly entered her, not wanting to hurt her. He busied himself sucking her neck while he waited for her body to adjust to his girth. It didn't take long before he felt her squeezing her walls around him, the feeling almost making his cum far too soon. Slowly, he moved in and out. In and out. His breath quickened as he increased his pace, her fingers digging into his back, her cries of pleasure and his low moans reverberating around the room. Faster. Faster. Deeper. Deeper. Over and over and over and over.

Finally, her body had had its fill and she cried out as the orgasm made every nerve in her extremities tingle and her body shake. Following her lead, Cristian reached his plateau and collapsed on top of her body, heaving as he waited for the stars to clear from his vision...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A loud clap of thunder brought Layla back to the present. _I didn't know it was supposed to rain today_. Wanting to beat the rain, she quickly left a tip and paid her bill and walked briskly to her car. _Good_, she thought, grateful for the distraction. She didn't need to continue thinking about that night. Thinking about it only reminded her of how much she enjoyed it. Really enjoyed it. Way too much. And that just was not acceptable. She had broken the cardinal rule: _Thou shalt not get with in any way the exes of family members or friends under any circumstances._ She sighed. _Evangeline_.

She thought she would get struck down by lightning during her first visit to her sister following...it. She almost didn't go but she couldn't bring herself not to go, not if there was a chance her voice could finally bring her sister out of her coma-induced deep sleep. Besides, she wasn't a coward. She was going to go and she was going to tell her sister about everything that had been happening in Llanview just like she always did. Except she was a coward. At least about that night. She just couldn't bring herself to tell her for fear it would set her back from consciousness even further. Even though her sister and Cristian had gone their separate ways before the racist attack, with Evangeline deciding she needed to be alone and work out her issues, what had happened that night was so wrong. And the feelings for one of her best friends--her sister's former love--that it had triggered just made it that much worse.

_This isn't right. This whole thing just isn't right,_ she thought as she drove back to her apartment. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about how she was going to tell Cristian, deciding that that was a slightly safer subject to ponder than her feelings for her baby's father. _My baby's father? God, that just doesn't sound right._

Should she stop by his loft unannounced and give him a pacifier and hope he got the hint? Should she call first and ask him to meet her somewhere because she had something important to tell him and risk losing her nerve and not showing up? Should she send word by Adriana and wait until she came back to hear all about his reaction? _What are you, in middle school, wanting to send a messenger???_ She sighed again. "Okay, Layla. Get it together. Just go over to his place and tell him. Let the chips fall where they may." What was he going to do? Spit in her face and demand a paternity test as soon as it was humanly possible like they were on the Maury show? Cris wasn't like that.

_Whoa, speaking of..._ "Okay, I'll make sure I tell him I hadn't been with Vincent 'Natalie needs my help' Jones or anyone else in over a month before...it." _Quit trippin', Layla. Before he made love to you like you've never experienced before in your life. No. Stop it. We're not going there._ Janet Jackson's "Moist" came on the satellite radio. _Great_. She changed the station.

Soon, she made it back to her apartment but she didn't beat the rain. There was a light sprinkle as she hurried from her Honda to the shelter of her apartment building. She took the elevator up to the fifth floor and quickly let herself into her apartment, determined to act as normal as possible until she was good and ready to tell Adriana she had sex with her cousin and was consequently going to add to the Vega clan.

_Oh shit_. As soon as she'd entered the living room and plopped her purse down on the couch, Adriana came breezing in from the short hallway waving something in her hand with a _What have you been up to, Miss Missy?_ look on her face. _Fuck! I can't believe I left the box in the trash can in the bathroom where her nosey ass could find it!_

Not saying a word, Adriana stood there with that same look on her face. Layla diverted her eyes and swallowed hard, willing her mind to come up with some BS to tell her and fast. Nothing came. _Well, here goes._

"Okay, promise you won't freak out."

"Layla..." Adriana's look changed to one of freaked out-ness.

"Just promise, okay?"

"Okay."

Layla took a seat on the couch and folded her hands across her knees, taking deep breaths as inconspicuously as she could while Adriana took a seat on the coffee table directly in front her. "Okay, look. This is really hard for me to say so I'm just going to come right out and say it and you have to promise me you won't freak out."

"Okay, okay! I told you I wouldn't now tell me! Are you pregnant???"

Layla sighed. She was doing that a lot lately. "Yes." She could see the wheels turning in Adriana's head as her best friend fought to keep her expression neutral.

Adriana swallowed, "Okaaaaaaay." She waited for Layla to give up the details while holding her breath. Being pregnant with Vincent's baby after their nasty breakup was so not a good thing...

Layla closed her eyes and took another deep breath, this time not bothering to hide it. She opened them back up and looked into her friend's eyes. "Remember when you went to LA to finish that thing with Exposed?"

"Yeah..."

Layla bounced her legs nervously and threw her head back, eyes closed. _Ugh! Gosh she didn't want to tell her_. Finally, she pulled her attention back to Adriana and took another deep breath and let it all loose without taking a breath, her face contorted as if she were in pain. "I had sex with Cristian after I walked in on Vincent and Natalie and I didn't want to tell you because I was so embarrassed and we sort of never talked about it again because he went to New York right after and I didn't get my period when I was supposed to and I haven't gotten it since so I went to the store and bought a test and it was positive." She watched Adriana's face closely for a reaction though squinted eyes, holding her breath even though she desperately needed some air after her long-winded confession. And damned if her friend didn't just sit there with her mouth hanging open! "Say something!"

"Cristian who?"

"You know Cristian who!"

Mouth still open, Adriana rose from the coffee table and walked over to the kitchen counter. "_Cristian?!_"

"Yes!"

"My cousin Cristian?"

Layla could throttle her. "Yes!"

Shock slowly wearing off, Adriana closed her mouth and walked to sit next to her friend on the couch. "I'm sorry, Layla. I'm just," the shocked look returned, "shocked."

Layla hid her head in her hands. "I know. Me too." She rose from the couch and walked a few feet before turning to face her friend again. "Argh! Adriana! What am I going to do?"

"You haven't told him?"

"No, not yet. I was planning on doing it tomorrow, after I go to the doctor or a clinic or something to be sure even though I already know what they're going to say."

Adriana let out a slow breath. "Okay. Well, have you thought about what you're going to say?" Layla sat back down, this time in the easy chair, rubbing her forehead that was housing a burgeoning headache.

"No, not really."

"Wait. Are you sure it's not Vincent's?" Adriana asked as soothingly as she could.

"Yes." God, she was getting exhausted. "I haven't been with him in forever." The day had taken its toll. Sensing this, Adriana rose from her perch on the couch and sat on the arm of the easy chair, rubbing Layla's back as she spoke.

"If it makes you feel any better, you know you don't have to worry about Cris. He's going to be there. He's not going to let you do it alone." She leaned down and kissed Layla's temple. "Neither am I."

Layla leaned her head against Adriana, glad she had confided in her. "Thanks."

"In fact, he'll probably be thrilled. He's always loved kids. He'll be great with one of his own." She leaned her head on top of Layla's and rubbed her shoulder.

For the first time since she'd read the pregnancy test results, a small smile formed on Layla's face. "I know. You know, that's one thing I have to be grateful for. I know he'll be a wonderful father."

"And you'll be a wonderful mother." They let the ensuing silence linger, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Adriana lifted her head and spoke. "Lay? Can I ask you a question?"

_Here it comes_. "What?"

"Why? H-how? How did this happen?"

Layla sighed. "I don't really know. He came by to leave his key and he was all upset because he'd thought they'd canceled his show and I was upset over Vincent and then the next thing you know..."

Adriana placed her head on top of Layla's again. "I guess..."

After she had taken a shower, Layla put on her favorite cotton nightgown and wrapped her hair for the night. Looking at herself in the mirror, she again wondered how she was going to tell Cris. It was already still awkward between them. There was nothing like spending time with your friend knowing he'd seen you naked and done things to you that made you call out his name and every other sound known to man while giving you the best sex of your life. And lately he always seemed like he had something to say to her but the words never came. He was usually always just like her--anything that came to mind pretty much had no problem getting out in words. If she didn't know better...No, no way. They were friends. Friends about to have a baby together. That's all. _That's all. Yeah. Big "that's all" aint it, Layla?_

She turned from her dresser, ready to go to bed and at least try to sleep. It had taken her forever to get comfortable sleeping in her own bed again after what had happened there. Just looking at it had made her coochie hiccup. And she'd felt guilty as hell for having that reaction. After all, he was her friend. And her sister's ex. And they had had no business doing what they did. And she definitely had had no business feeling what she felt.

Climbing between the thin sheet and the mattress, her thoughts again drifted back to that night, her mind too tired to prevent them from going there again...

_7 1/2 weeks earlier_

Breathing evened out, Cristian raised himself onto his elbows, still intimately joined with Layla. For reasons he didn't quite understand, he didn't want to break their physical connection. Immediately missing the feel of his hard chest against hers, Layla met his eyes as they searched for hers. Not being able to help himself, he placed a slow, soft peck on her lips. Shifting most of his weight to his left elbow, he brought his right hand up to brush her hair from her face. Not really knowing what to say, he looked into her eyes and softly asked, "Are you okay?", his voice husky and low.

Feeling strangely emboldened, Layla brought her right hand up and pressed her index finger to his lips, her eyes following her finger. _They're so soft_. Her thinking apparatus still on lockdown, she raised her head off the bed and replaced her finger with her lips, her arms wrapping around his neck and the heat rising in her body as Cristian's tongue fought for domination in her mouth. She didn't want this to end. Not yet. And from his reaction, neither did he.

Feeling himself already beginning to harden again inside her body, he brought his right hand down in between them and began working on her sensitive clit. Almost instantaneously, she began whimpering and broke their kiss, pressing her head back into the bed so that her labored breathing wasn't hindered any further by his tongue blocking her airway. Wrapping her legs around him, she rubbed his back and fought from calling out his name again. She didn't want to know how many times she'd already done that. _Oh yes_. He began thrusting again in a rapid-fire pace, the urgency breaking her resolve to keep his name from rolling off the tip of her tongue. _Oh my God. Oh my--shit. Dammit. Fuck!_ "Cristian! Oh my--Oh God!!!" She wanted to climb the walls it was so good.

Cristian slowed his pace, wanting to gather up his strength for the finish and wanting every sensation he was feeling to last. _Damn,_ he thought. His body was reaching overload. He quickened his pace, hoping she was ready because he didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold out. Sixty seconds later, his heart beating so fast he thought it was going to explode in his chest, he felt her walls spasm around him and her nails dig into his back as her vocalizations--he was sure--woke up every neighbor within a five-mile radius. Thankful she had reached her pinnacle of pleasure again, he let himself go and rode the wave with her, this time withdrawing from inside of her afterwards and rolling over onto his back, completely and totally spent.

They lay there side-by-side, staring at the ceiling, breathing air into their lungs as if it was going out of style.

_A one-minute man he definitely is not. Wait. What? Layla!_ Reality bitch-slapped her right in the face. And it hurt like a mother. _What the hell did you just do?_

_Okay, Cristian,_ he thought. _Do you realize what you just did, hombre?_ He glanced down at his relaxing shaft and grimaced. _And what you just did it without?_

There they laid together in Awkward City, realizing the full extent of what they had done, how they had done it, and, reluctantly, how right it had felt. And how so very wrong it was. So wrong. Wanting to make sure she was okay, Cristian again spoke first. It was fifteen minutes ago all over again. "Layla? You all right?"

"Mm-hmm." She bit her lip, wanting to fall into a crack in the earth and have it swallow her up whole.

After a long, uncomfortable minute, he leaned up on his left elbow to face her. Not one to mince words, he continued as gently as he could, "Do you want to talk about this?" She suddenly felt extremely self-conscious lying there naked under his gaze. Before she could answer, a cell phone ringing made them both jump. "Is that you?"

She shook her head. "No. My phone's in the living room."

Wondering if he should answer it, he looked towards the end of the bed where his pants lay strewn on the floor. Sensing his dilemma, she told him to answer it. Gracefully climbing off the bed, he found his cell phone in his pants pocket and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her so that she could have some privacy. She took the opportunity to go to her closet and grab her robe, wrapping it around herself while he spoke on the phone.

"Hello?...Oh, hey...Yeah?...What?? You're kidding!"

She heard the excitement in his voice and wondered who he was talking to.

"Well, yeah! Of course!" There was a long pause while he listened to the person on the other end of the line. There was only moonlight streaming into the room but she could see his smile a mile away. "Okay. Right. Well, I'll be there. Thanks for getting another ticket for me, Lindsey...Great. Yeah. Thanks...Okay. Good night." Flipping his phone closed, he sat there, a look of incredulity on his face.

"What was that about?" Layla asked, feeling the discomfort in the air beginning to lift.

"They made a mistake. Something about wires being crossed or something. I'm still supposed to be in New York tomorrow."

His smile and excitement were contagious. "Really?"

"Yeah." He didn't seem to mind that he was naked--she tried not to look too hard--because he ran to her and swung her up into his arms and in a circle before putting her back down. Their eyes met again and began probing each other's a little too deep. Layla quickly looked away and took a step back before looking him in the face again. "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks." He noticed her distance and sighed softly, walking back over to his underwear and quickly putting them on. Not knowing what to do with herself, she looked around the room and saw the blind still open. She closed it and walked over to the door to turn on the light. Wanting to give him some privacy and remembering his shirt was in the living room, she left her bedroom and retrieved it. Handing it to him, he smiled sheepishly and thanked her.

"You're welcome. I'll be in the kitchen. You want something to drink?"

"No. Thank you. I'm fine."

"Okay." She left the bedroom again and walked to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She was parched to the extreme. As she was taking her first sip, he emerged from her bedroom and leaned on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it. Clearing his throat, he told her, "I better get going."

She nodded. "Okay."

"I guess I'll see you in a few weeks."

"Yeah. Be careful up there, okay? Don't want to hear any stories about the famous artist Cristian Vega getting mugged or anything." She smiled.

He chuckled and returned the smile. "I'll try. Oh." He reached into his pocket. "Forgot this." He placed the key to his loft in her hand.

"Right."

"Thanks for keeping an eye on my place for me. Don't forget to water the plants and dust and do the laundry."

"Ha. Ha." She smirked at him.

He studied her briefly. "I'll see you later, Layla." He turned and walked towards the door, Layla following behind him. He opened the door and stepped through, pausing to turn and place a kiss on her cheek. "Don't forget to lock it," he said indicating the door with his hand. "Good night."

"Good night."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sitting on a stool in his studio, the setting sun shining brightly through the window warming his bare back, Cristian swirled the mixture of azure oil paint and turpentine around on the palette with his size six Filbert paintbrush. Studying the canvas carefully, he took the brush and made several short strokes before sitting back and sighing heavily. His hand still wasn't giving him the control he wanted. _I can do this. I'm going to do this._

He had made a total success of his new painting style and had so many commissions coming his way stemming from his New York exhibit he had to turn more than a few down. He hated having to do it but he only had two hands. He sighed, looking at the canvas in front of him. _Make that one._ Dipping the brush into some fresh paint, he made a few more strokes on the canvas, the result looking better than the last ones had. He smiled. A year ago, he never would have imagined he'd be where he was now: an unbelievable amount of money in his bank account, all of his medical bills paid off, a write-up in the famed _Parkett_ artists magazine, and the creative juices flowing through his blood like never before. He finally had it all. _Well, not everything._ He began thinking back to the night he had spent with Layla in her apartment when his phone rang, jarring his thoughts. Getting off of the stool, he grabbed the cordless phone sitting on the shelf to his right and pressed the Talk button. "Hello?"

"Hey. What are you doing tonight?" It was Antonio.

"Why? What's up?"

"What do you say to going out with Talia and me to the Jazz Festival? She's got a friend she wants you to meet."

_A blind date. I don't do blind dates._ "Antonio, you know I don't do blind dates."

"It's not a blind date, Cristian. It's just two people who happen to be of the opposite sex going to the Jazz Festival with two other people who happen to be of the opposite sex. Come on, I know you wanted to go this year."

"Antonio, you know I've got a lot of work to do--"

"It's Friday night, Cris. You've been locked up in that studio for weeks. You need to get some air, have a few drinks, relax."

Trying to figure a way out of the torture, Cristian decided to stall. "Okay, so who is she?"

"Who?"

"This friend of Talia's. Who is she?"

"Oh, her name is Marisol. I've met her a few times. She loves your statue--she works the Angel Square beat and--"

"Wait, she's a cop?"

"Yeeeeeeeah..."

_Bingo_. "Antonio, you know I can't date a policewoman."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll only get to see her from my jail cell downtown."

"What?"

"Anytime I hear about some perp roughing her up or giving her a hard time, I'm going to have to kick his ass. And that means I'll only get to see her from behind bars."

Antonio laughed. "Ah, come on Cris!"

"I'm serious, Antonio."

"Cris, you're impossible, you know that?" He continued to laugh.

"But you love me." Cris couldn't contain his grin.

"Fine. Whatever. Stay in that studio and drive yourself crazy if you want to. I'll tell Talia she's going to have to find someone else."

"Ah. You really do love me."

"Bye, Cris."

Cris chuckled. "Bye." _Crisis averted._ While it was true he hated blind dates, he didn't tell Antonio the real reason he didn't want to go on a date with some woman he didn't know. And her name was Layla Williamson.

Sighing heavily, he set the phone back on the shelf and sat down onto his stool. Instead of grabbing his palette, he gazed at the unfinished canvas and let his thoughts wander. That night he'd seen something in her eyes that had inexplicably drawn him to her. Having replayed the evening in his head countless times since it happened, he thought he had finally pinpointed what it was. It was more than her hurt, more than her pain. While she had let herself be so easily, so completely, so openly vulnerable with him, it was more than that. She was hurting but he _knew_ he could see his own pain in her eyes. Looking into them that night, he had felt that if she could, she would have made all of his hopes, every dream he'd ever had, come true. He had found hope in his life again when he was given his own show in New York and, when he'd thought it had all been taken away from him again, it had broken his spirit into a million pieces and he wanted nothing more than to get away from it all. He was angry at himself, the world and, he was ashamed to admit, God. In the whole scheme of things, it really wasn't a big deal--there were people in the world starving--but for him it had been everything after so many years of pain. Yet, with her own heartbreak and humiliation fresh in her mind, she had taken on his pain, felt it, and wished she had the power to take it all away. He saw that. He saw it in her eyes.

When he thought back to his previous relationships, he realized he'd never really experienced that before. He had always been so steadfast in making sure Jessica, Jennifer, Natalie, and Evangeline could always trust him with everything and depend on him for anything that he lost himself and his own needs in the equation. Maybe that had been why those relationships had failed. He had been so wrapped up in their needs, he'd let his own fall by the wayside. He had never learned to be just a little bit selfish or to take even a little as he gave so much. Layla, whom he'd once thought of as just his friend, his good friend, his beautiful friend, had shown him what he had been missing: someone who would put him first even above her own pain. He saw it. He felt it. And it had felt good.

For weeks he had wanted to tell her. All of it. Everything. That she was his best friend. That making love to her had made him feel more whole than he'd ever felt. That he had feelings for her burgeoning from deep within his soul. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. _She's Evangeline's sister._ He sighed heavily and pursed his lips.

He didn't love Evangeline anymore. _No, that's not true._ He wasn't _in love_ with her anymore. Just like with Jessica and Natalie, there was probably always going to be a part of him that loved her. He believed in that theory that once your heart had been given out, it never came back whole. You always hoped if you ever fell in love again, that person would make it complete again.

With Evangeline, there had always been a fight. He had to fight her stubbornness when she was blinded during the tornado. He had to fight her John McBain demons when he wanted to take their relationship further. He had to fight her demand for his perfection, that he do everything the way she wanted, that they did everything when _she_ was ready, that he always make the sacrifices while she made none. He loved her. There was no doubt about that. He had loved her more than anyone else before her but hindsight was 20/20. He had been too blinded by love to see that they weren't going to make it.

_And Todd Manning._ He frowned. That one had hurt. She had said she'd do anything for him but when the time came to put him first as he always did for her, she refused. And it didn't help that he had heard Manning confessing to Blair a few months ago, as they were working on repairing their relationship, about everything that had transpired between him and Evangeline. She had lied to him about the ski lodge. That had hurt, too.

_It's over. It wasn't meant to be. Life goes on._ Sighing heavily, Cristian grabbed the palette and paintbrush and returned his attention to getting his right hand to make the stroke precisely as it appeared in his mind. _She's Evangeline's sister._ He studied his strokes again. _Not too bad._ Putting the palette and paintbrush down again, he reached for the phone and dialed Antonio's number. He really did want to go to the Jazz Festival this year.

The next day, Adriana stood up quickly from her chair in the waiting room when Layla returned. She studied her friend's face as she approached folding the carbon copy detailing her visit into her purse. Her features laced with concern, Adriana asked softly, "Well?"

Layla stood in front of her friend and only nodded, looking as if one tiny push could send her into hysterics. She had expected it. She had. But the doctor giving her the news with absolute certainty had made her want to break down and cry. What if Evangeline woke up tomorrow? What would she tell her? Would she feel betrayed? That she was right about them when she accused them of sleeping together at the ski lodge? _No. She was just projecting. You and Cristian were just friends. Because of her. You were friends. You know that._

Swallowing hard and biting her lower lip, Layla fought to keep the tenuous hold on her composure and put a tight, forced smile on her face. "You ready? I'll drop you off at work."

"You sure you don't want to stop and get a bite to eat first?" Adriana really didn't know what else to say. She knew her friend had just received the shock of her life and she didn't know how to make it better. She had offered to go with Layla to see Cris to lessen the tension but Layla had insisted she do it alone.

"No. Let's go. I have to get this over with." Repositioning her purse on her shoulder, Layla led the way to the elevator, her heart pounding so hard it made her head hurt. _You're not even there yet and you're having a panic attack. It's Cristian, Layla. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay..._

_Well, the music was good._ Cristian was back at work in his studio the next day, doing what he loved. With his button-down shirt flung over the ladder against the wall, he reflected on the evening before. _Would have been even better if the company hadn't sucked._ Marisol was a nice woman but she was trying too hard. And fawning all over him. He hated it. It made him feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. And it didn't help that he didn't want to be there with her. Layla would have loved it. Jazz and R&B were her favorites. _Layla_.

He wondered what she was up to. He hadn't seen her much since he returned a few weeks ago and when he did, it was usually in passing as they both were busy with work and he knew she was uncomfortable being around him. Truthfully, it _was_ awkward. What had happened between them was so sudden and had forever changed the dynamics of their relationship. He wanted to talk to her, tell her what he was feeling and what he knew she had felt that night, but he didn't feel right about putting her in that position. She was his ex-girlfriend's sister. Antonio had fallen in love with his former love but Cristian had moved on from Jessica and had always believed that everything happened for a reason, that one couldn't control whom he fell in love with. He knew Layla and Evangeline loved each other to death but everybody wasn't like him and Antonio. The last thing he wanted to do was put a strain on the sisters' relationship more than he already had. He was beginning to convince himself that it would be for the best that they let that night go.

She sat in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel in a death grip. She had dropped Adriana off at _Craze_ and drove directly to Cristian's building, forcing herself to take deep breaths and not turn around and run back home. Putting things off never made them any easier to deal with. It only increased the amount of time spent worrying over them, sometimes needlessly. She took a deep breath. "Okay, girl. Go in there. Tell him. Then go back home and grab some Rocky Road and a spoon and watch some talk shows. Just get it over with." _Oh God_. She leaned her head on the steering wheel and reconsidered sending Adriana to tell him. _Okay, wait, I can just write a note and slide it under his door. He'll get the shock out of the way and then call me._ "Ugh! Stop it! Don't think about it. Just go." She put on her game face, grabbed her purse, and exited her car, willing her mind not to think about what she was about to do. _Oh, look. Those are pretty rosebushes. What a lovely day. Sun's shining. Birds chirping. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. Everything's okay. Everything's okay._

Soon, she found herself inside his building and the fear hit her all over again. Every step she took made her heart beat faster. It seemed to take forever to get to his door and, frankly, she didn't mind. _Okay. Knock on the door._ Her arm didn't move. _Knock on the door!_ She threw her head back, took the deepest breath of her life, and brought her hand up to Cristian's door. _Knock!!!_ Her hand finally obeyed. And then her brain shut down.

Cristian, his back to the door as he worked on his canvas, turned briefly at the sound of someone knocking on his door, his attention on his piece. "It's open."

Feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience, she saw herself twist the doorknob and push the door open. She saw herself looking at Cristian's bare back. She saw him turn to see who had entered his studio.

Surprised to see her, he spoke. "Hey." Wanting to finish a few more wild strokes before the vision left him, he quickly turned his attention back to the canvas. She stepped further into the room and shut the door behind her, her voice suddenly gone MIA.

Still working on the canvas, Cris continued, "You have the day off?"

No answer.

"It's a nice day for it. I was thinking about going for a jog, get some air..."

Still no answer. When he realized he hadn't heard her voice since she arrived, he turned back around to face her. She stood there, her eyes trained on him, looking as if she had something on her mind that she really, _really_ didn't want to tell him. He quickly put his paintbrush down across one of his paint cans and walked to stand in front of her, a crease in his brow. When he reached her, he focused piercing, concerned eyes on hers. Her brain finally deciding to let her know it was still there, she thought, _Why is he looking at me like that? Like I'm the only other person in the world right now and he'd do anything to make everything okay._

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?"

She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. The concern in his eyes was killing her.

"Here, sit down." He reached to grab a yellow, plastic chair and placed it in front of its match. Taking her gently by the hand, he led her to one of the chairs, settling himself into the other, the cross on his gold chain reflecting the rays of sunlight beaming into the room.

His thoughts were racing. _Is it Evangeline? Their mother?_

She couldn't explain it, and she didn't understand it, but looking into his eyes was giving her strength and calming her beyond frazzled nerves. _How does he do that?_ It wasn't too much longer before she was able to find her voice again. Without breaking contact with his eyes, she finally spoke, "I-I went to the doctor today." He nodded his head in understanding, his eyes still trained on hers, expression intense with worry. _Is she sick?_

She glanced down at her hands where they were fiddling in her lap. She took two deep breaths. _Come on, Layla_. She let out a short, nervous laugh and her eyes began brimming with moisture. _Just say it_. She began nervously looking around his studio as her courage finally found its way into her spirit. She took one final deep breath, surprised she hadn't sucked all the air out of the room. "You think this place is big enough?" _That's good. Ease him into this. Ease_ yourself _into this_.

He immediately looked confused but spoke softly. "Big enough for what?"

_Here goes._ She swallowed. "A baby." She held her breath and focused on his eyes again, trying to read him before she spoke again. He shifted in his seat and leaned towards her, a truly bewildered expression on his face.

"A baby?" His voice was low and unsure of itself. His thoughts raced again, this time in a different direction and in remembrance of their night together. _Wait a minute. No way..._

_He's looking at you like you're crazy. If you don't just say it--_. "You know how when two people..." She immediately stopped that line of thought. "Cris..."

He studied her face even more closely, waiting with bated breath for her to continue.

"...I'm pregnant." She nodded and released a long stream of air. "We're having a baby." She could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile as she waited for him to say something, anything.

His mouth opened but nothing came out.

Having already gotten it out once, it came easier this time. "I'm having a baby...Your baby." She continued to study him as her news made its way from his ears to his brain processes and his mouth slowly broke into a grin that soon made its way to his eyes.

"What? W-wait. You're-you're serious?" She felt some of the burden lifting from her shoulders as she nodded her head again and his smile got even wider. _She_ is _serious._ Feeling in shock, Cristian rose from his chair and slowly walked over to the window by the stairwell, bracing himself against the pane. _She's having my child. Layla's having my child._ So many emotions washed over him: anxiety, joy, fear, hope...Guilt. _Evangeline._ He couldn't imagine what Layla was feeling.

The grin quickly leaving his face, he turned around to look at her and saw her with her head down, looking as though the weight of the whole world was on her small shoulders. He took a deep breath and walked back over to sit across from her. Now that he was closer, he could see her fighting back tears. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. Only he wasn't sure he could do that and not have it be a lie. Looking down at his hands, he spoke softly, "It's okay to be upset about this, Layla. I understand."

Her head still down, she only nodded. After several seconds, she finally spoke, her voice cracking. "How am I going to tell her?" She raised her head and looked heavenward. "How am I going to tell my sister that I'm--." She inhaled sharply, trying to get herself back under control. She knew it wasn't true and she shouldn't say it but her emotions were getting the best of her. "You two would still be together if she wasn't in a coma, Cristian. How can I tell her--"

Still speaking softly, Cristian continued, "No. No, we wouldn't, Layla. You know that--"

Her eyes focused on his, she cut him off. "You two were in love, Cristian. I know she hurt you but--"

He shook his head. "Layla, listen to me. Just like you couldn't and shouldn't have been second with Vincent, I couldn't keep being second to Todd. He'd been there from the beginning, Layla. We weren't--it wasn't going to work. I accepted that. She accepted that. We moved on." Not being able to stop himself, he continued, "What you and I did--what we felt--it had nothing to do with Evangeline. I wasn't trying to replace her with--"

She had to leave. She had to go now. She knew he was right that it was over between her sister and him before the coma but she just couldn't handle this right now. It was too much. He was starting to talk about feelings and that night and she just couldn't do it right now. "Cris, um, I have to go." She reached down to grab her purse and rose quickly from the chair.

"Layla--"

"I have to go, okay?" She hurried over to the door and opened it. Determined to keep herself together until she was out of his presence, she added, "I'll talk to you later." She escaped the confines of his studio and closed the door behind herself, leaving Cristian standing in the middle of his studio staring at the closed studio door. He wanted to go after her but he knew she needed some time to deal. He knew the feeling--sometimes he just needed to take a walk, just get away from it all for awhile. Sighing heavily, he returned to the seat Layla had vacated and rubbed his face in hands before interlocking his fingers and resting his chin on them. That had not gone well. It was too soon. She was dealing with a lot--a whole lot--and he had put too much on her. The last thing he wanted to do was add to her stress. It wasn't good for her or the baby. _The baby_. He was going to be a father. For real this time. It was the best news he had ever heard in his life. But he felt like hell. _I need to go for a walk. Better yet, a jog._ Rising from the chair, he walked briskly up the stairs to change into his jogging gear.

When he returned to his studio an hour later, he quickly removed his soggy workout clothes and headed straight for his shower. Like always, his walk/jog had brought him some much needed clarity. He couldn't make her feel better about her sister. For obvious reasons, he just wasn't going to be the one who would be able to do it. Only her sister could ameliorate the guilt he knew she felt. He leaned his head back and let the water cascade down his face. Until then, he was going to focus on the life they had created together and leave it at that. _My little boy or girl..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was Sunday morning. Eleven o'clock to be exact. With her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, Layla stood outside of Cristian's door for the second time in two days.

She had felt awful about the way she had left him the day before. She hadn't been ready to start talking about what happened between them when their baby was conceived--_God, that still sounds so weird_--or, more accurately, _why_ it happened, but running out on him like she had had to have upset him and that was the last thing she wanted. And it was totally selfish. She wasn't alone in this and he had to have been just as shocked as she was, yet she ran crying out of his studio like _A total and complete jackass._ Telling him he'd still be with her sister if not for the coma wasn't something she believed. Rather, it was something she wanted to believe so she could keep denying what she was feeling. Shaking her head to herself, Layla knocked on Cristian's door and waited for a response. She had seen the joy on his face when she told him, and it had almost made her feel as though everything would be alright, but it didn't alleviate the guilt she felt. No matter what her sister had done or what she had felt for Todd Manning leading up to their breakup, she knew Evangeline had loved Cristian at one time. And that was more than enough for her to feel as though she were betraying her sister every time she thought about what she did with Cristian in her bed and how whole she felt when she did it. The cognitive dissonance was overwhelming.

Knocking on his door for the third time, Layla wondered if Cristian were even home. _Maybe he's at church._ The way she had left him yesterday, she wouldn't have been surprised if he were ignoring her on purpose--he hadn't answered his studio phone or his cell when she called earlier that morning. She had really wanted to apologize to him and promise she wasn't going to shut him out. _And hopefully do it_ without _talking about that night_. Even though he _was_ one of her best friends and she could talk to him about almost anything, for the past seven and a half weeks there had been a caveat: _Anything except that._ Finally deciding to come back later, Layla found her way to the elevator and pressed the down button, still thinking to herself. _You. Are. Pregnant. Expectant. With child...Knocked. Up. How the hell are you gonna keep running away from this when this baby is the result of it? You gonna run away from the baby, too? Act as though she's not even here?_ She leaned her head against the back wall of the elevator as she rode to the ground level. _"She," huh?_ Though still in no way used to the idea of becoming someone's mother, she couldn't help but wonder if she was going to have to buy blue or pink. Or purple. Smiling softly to herself, she felt she already knew. _It's going to be a girl._

As she stepped out of Cristian's building into the chilly, fall weather, she spotted him chatting with a woman she'd never seen before across the street. _What's that about? All of that talking and smiling. Talking and smiling and...laughing._ When she felt herself frowning--_And sooo not being jealous_--she quickly put a neutral look on her face and started to walk to her car, acting as though she hadn't seen him. _And I'm not jealous...Damn! He saw me_. Stopping her trek to her car, she waited as Cristian quickly said goodbye to the woman he was talking to and jogged across the street, multiple books in his hands keeping them full. Adjusting her purse strap, she put a smile on her face and spoke as he reached her. "Hey."

"Hey. Were you coming out of my building?"

She turned and glanced briefly at his building. "Uh. Yeah." She pulled a stray lock of hair behind her ear before putting both hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "I just wanted to apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

She shrugged and looked into his eyes. "For running out like that..." Her gaze fell to his chest and she shook her head slightly at her remembrance of her behavior before looking him in the eye again. "You didn't deserve that. I don't want you to think I'm shutting you out. It's just..."

Cristian shifted the books into his left hand and kept them from tumbling to the sidewalk by holding them to his left side. Staring into her sincere eyes, he replied, "It's okay."

"I just...God, Cristian, this is just so weird." Cristian glanced down at the sidewalk and let her continue. Rolling her eyes skyward, Layla continued talking, admitting more than she had intended. "I just feel so guilty."

Looking into her eyes again, Cristian said softly, so softly she barely heard him, "I know."

Knowing he understood and grateful that he had left it at that, Layla broke away from his hypnotizing gaze and focused on the books in the crook of his arm. "So what are you reading?"

He glanced at the objects of her gaze. "Oh. Well, I just got back from the library." The look on his face told her he wasn't too interested in sharing any information on the literature in his arms. Initially thinking they were art books, Layla studied them more closely and saw the words "Baby" and "Father" and "Pregnancy" on the bindings. Her mouth breaking into a huge smile, Layla's voice rose an octave. "Are those baby books?"

Cristian smiled sheepishly.

"No wonder you didn't answer when I called you. You were at the library. Let me see." She reached for the books in his arm and felt her heart flutter when she saw the six books on pregnancy and parenting. _This man is too much._ "You're trying to get ahead of me in the game, aren't you?" She held the book entitled _Pregnancy and You_ against her chest with a questioning, wholly amused look on her face.

Cristian's face began turning red and he shrugged. _He is adorable._ "I just wanted to know what to expect." He quickly clarified. "For you. I wanted to make sure I'll be doing all I can to make things easier for you."

_Why is he so wonderful?_ She smiled at his embarrassment and about how lucky she was to have gotten unexpectedly pregnant by such a thoughtful, caring man. And for a second, the guilt lifted. Only for a second. "That's so sweet. Thank you."

Taking the heavy books back from her hands, Cristian asked, "Did you want to look at any of these? I can get them back when you're done."

"No, I--" Her cell phone ringing interrupted her answer. Looking at the caller ID, her heart damn near stopped. _Mom!_ At his questioning look, Layla barely screeched out, "It's my mother." _Shit. Shit. Shit!_ She was already coming up with excuses for not answering her phone on a Sunday morning when her mother knew she didn't have to work and went to the early morning church service, but she remembered her sister and that their mother was probably calling to ask about her since she had been unable to visit the facility the last few days. Layla's own last visit had been last Monday. "Shit!" Turning away from Cristian, Layla thought about letting her voicemail take the call and calling back later when she figured out how many ways she could take the conversation as far away from her personal goings on as possible. Taking a deep breath, she decided to get the call over with.

"Hey, Mom!" She realized she sounded a little too happy after it came out. "...I'm fine...Yes..." She sighed. "Yes, Mother...Mom!...I know. Yeah...She's doing okay...No. Nothing." Wanting to respect her privacy, Cristian took several steps away from Layla and focused on the scenery. He saw an awesome scene by the huge sweetgum tree across the street. He wished he'd had his camera with him so he could paint the scene later. _With watercolors and oil._ His thoughts were interrupted when Layla finished her call with her mother and approached him.

"How is she?"

"My mom? She's doing okay."

"Evangeline?"

There it was again. That damn guilt. "Still hanging on."

"She's going to come back. Stubborn as she is, she's not going to give up. She's going to prove the doctors wrong."

_This is so weird._ She nodded. "I know."

Turning his attention back to the tree, Cristian pointed. "You see that? Those birds over there? And that squirrel nestled over there by that rock? Look at that color." Following his eyes, Layla turned to see what had him so transfixed. This was it for him. His happiest time. Seeing beauty in the world around him. She wondered if her baby would share that with her father.

"It's beautiful. Uh!" They both laughed. "They're gone!"

"Yeah. Maybe I can remember it enough to put it on canvas." Soon they were engulfed in a comfortable silence, placated by the serenity around them. Then Cristian broke the silence. "You haven't told her." It wasn't a question.

After a pregnant pause, Layla simply stated, "No." She waited for him to say something, something like _You can't hide it forever_ or _What the hell's the matter with you? You want to ignore this situation forever???_ but he said nothing. "Have you told your mom? Antonio?"

Cristian shook his head. "No. I wanted to wait until you were ready."

_I'm never going to be ready._ "Cristian, you can tell them. Don't let me stop you. I know you want to share the...good news."

He turned to look at her. "It is good news, Layla. A new life...is always good news."

She let his words make an impression in her brain. He was right. This really should be a happy time. For both of them. They already loved each other. _As friends. As friends, Layla_. They were both financially set. They both genuinely wanted the best for their child. That was half the battle. She made a decision. And they hadn't been coming easily lately. She wanted him to be able to tell his family. Maybe telling the Vegas would make it easier for her to tell her mother. _And Evangeline_. "Come on." She grabbed him by the hand.

"Where're we goin'?"

"I'll drive."

"Where?"

"Your mom's. We'll tell her."

He pulled her to a stop. "Wait. Are you sure about this? I don't want you to think I was pressuring--"

"I'm sure." She continued their forward movement so she wouldn't change her mind. "Let's go."

Opened wide in pleasant surprise, Carlotta Vega put both hands to her mouth before approaching her baby boy and pulling him into her arms. "_Mijo. Felicidades! Tu seras un padre magnifico. Como tu padre._" Cristian hugged his mother back. She was truly the strongest woman he knew.

"Gracias, Mami." Holding her son at arm's length, she smiled, feeling so blessed to have him back in her life on Earth after losing him years ago. She soon turned her attention to Layla who stood at Cristian's side, wondering what his mother was _really_ thinking about the bomb they just laid on her considering her own sister had been in the position to have Cristian's child a year ago.

Carlotta pulled Layla into her arms giving her a firm hug. "Congratulations, Layla. Are you happy?"

_Oh, she's goooooood. Acting like this whole thing isn't just a bit disconcerting._ "I-I'm shocked but..." She turned to glance at Cristian. "I'm happy." And it wasn't a lie. At least some of the time. What was done was done. There was no turning back now. There was a new life to think about. _And that was always good news._

Carlotta stood back from the two of them, pleased with what they had told her, but hiding her shock very well. She knew the two of them were good friends. And sometimes that led to more...Her son always fell in love hard. Very hard. His heart was so big there was no place for it to go except on his sleeve. Evangeline was a nice woman and she had thought she had made her son very happy. But that was her child. Her baby. She didn't like to see her son hurt. And Evangeline had hurt him. She hoped with every fiber in her being that Layla wouldn't do the same. "So would you like something to eat?" She waved them in the direction of the kitchen. "_Ven conmigo._ Eat." Looking to Layla for her approval, Cristian got it and led her by her hand into his mother's kitchen for lunch.

After lunch, Carlotta had regaled Layla with pictures of Cristian and Antonio when they were younger. Layla loved Cristian's big ears when he was little and she laughed hysterically when Carlotta eagerly filled her in on her son's battle with his ears in grade school. "But he grew into them and became a very handsome young man." She ruffled her son's hair as he sat next her, embarrassed as all hell. They spent hours talking: about Cristian and Antonio's fights as little boys, about Diego Vega, about some Williamson traditions and Layla's "put on hold" acting career. Before they knew it, the sun had gone down and the cool, night air was awaiting them as they got back into Layla's Honda. Waving goodbye, they drove off in the direction of Cristian's loft, bellies still full (it was a big, late lunch) and a warm ambiance in the air. For the first time since she'd taken the pregnancy test, she had felt totally relaxed and free from guilt. Spending time with the Vegas had always been pleasant but today was special. She was carrying a Vega in her womb. Which reminded her...

"Is it okay if we stop at the drugstore really quick? I need to pick up my prenatal vitamins. I meant to do that earlier today."

"Sure." He smiled at her. "It's okay." Pulling into the 24 hour Walgreens, it felt eerily quiet. Shaking the feeling off, she grabbed her purse. "I'll be right back."

"I'll come in with you." Unbuckling his seat belt, Cristian stepped out of Layla's car. As soon as he shut the door, they heard a bloodcurdling scream that was quickly muffled. Looking around, they saw a woman across the street being attacked. Within a fraction of a second, Cristian took off in the woman's direction, yelling behind himself, "Get some help!" Grabbing her phone and dialing 911, Layla walked around to the rear of her car watching as Cristian fast approached the woman and her attacker. Her heart pounding with her fear for Cristian's safety, she froze. Cristian pounced on the assailant, pulling him from the terrified woman, and wrestled with him on the ground. Then the woman screamed again. And Layla saw her best friend, her child's father, her world, suddenly stop moving. As the attacker scrambled away, Layla dropped her cell phone and ran. And ran. And ran. It seemed to take forever to reach him.

Finally, she did. "Oh my God. Cristian. Cristian!" The blood. It was everywhere. She didn't know where it was coming from. "Call 911!" She yelled at the woman standing shell shocked on the other side of Cristian's lifeless body. "Cristian?! Can you hear me? Cris!" She caressed his sweat-laced face with her hands, "Cris, please! Talk to me! Please!" She saw his eyes flutter open.

"I-I'm okay." His breathing was shallow.

"You are?" She was crying now. "That's good. That's good, Cristian." She suddenly remembered the nameless woman still frozen with shock. "Call the fuckin police!!!! Call them!!!!!!" Startled back into reality, the woman looked around for her purse, finding it just a few feet away. Throwing its contents out on the concrete, she located her phone, and with trembling hands, dialed 911.

When Layla looked back down into Cristian's face, his eyes were closed again. "Cris! Please. Please open your eyes and talk to me. Please." The tears were streaming down her face as she continued to hold his face in her soft hands. "Cris! Please!"

Moving his head from side to side slowly and deliberately, he tried to answer her but his throat felt as dry as the Sahara and nothing would come out. Instead, he forced his eyes open.

"Cris? It's going to be okay, okay? It's going to be okay. Just stay with me. Please! Stay with me." She needed him. More than she ever imagined. _They_ needed him. "It's going to be okay, Cristian. I need to---I need to look. I need to stop the bleeding. Just stay with me, okay? Please. Stay with me and the baby." She lifted up his shirt. _Oh my God._ It was so dark and there was so much blood she couldn't find his wounds. Becoming hysterical, her hands began shaking. _Where are they? Where are they?! I can't find them!_ "Okay. You still with me Cris?" She looked into his face. His head didn't move this time and his eyes were closed. Her tears clouding her vision, she continued to feel along his torso, finally finding what felt like a wound. "Cris? Talk to me. Tell me you're okay. Please." She removed her jacket as fast as she possibly could and applied it to the wound, not knowing if there were more. She soon heard sirens approaching and remembered the woman who was kneeling at Cristian's side, not knowing how long she had been there. And if she had said anything.

The woman spoke, "I-I think I saw him stab him twice. I-I can't tell where."

The sirens got louder signaling the emergency personnel's imminent arrival. Hyperventilating, Layla finally noticed. As the EMTs piled out of the ambulance several feet away, Cristian had stopped breathing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Ma'am. Ma'am! Ma'am, please, you need to step back so we can help him." One of the police officers tried to pry Layla from Cristian's unconscious body but she was in shock and frozen still. _H-he was just looking at me a minute ago. He was just looking at me. He told me he was okay._ Her body was trembling uncontrollably and the tears were steadily continuing to fall. _He just told me he was okay!_ She felt hands on her shoulders trying gently to help her from the ground. Soon, she found herself a few feet away from him, someone holding her in place, as two paramedics began pulling out equipment, trying to save his life. She watched as one of the paramedics cut open his shirt and the other checked his vitals. She watched as the one checking his vitals declared what she already knew: he wasn't breathing. _Oh my God._ She was crying so hard she was having a difficult time catching her breath. Red and white and red and blue lights flashed all around her as the policewoman holding her in place soothingly rubbed her back. _Oh, God, please. Please don't take him away from me now. Please._

"We have to get him out of here stat." As the paramedics stabilized Cristian for transport, they requested one of the police officers standing guard to drive the ambulance and to radio ahead to the hospital as another stood talking to the woman Cristian had saved. Quickly lifting him from the ground, the paramedics raced as carefully as they could to back of the ambulance. Her eyes transfixed on his still frame, Layla stammered through her tears and asked the woman holding her, "Can I ride with him?" Not saying a word, the policewoman quickly walked Layla over to the ambulance where Cristian had already been loaded.

Speaking to one of the paramedics, she asked, "Can she ride?"

"In the front. We need to hurry." As another police officer closed the back door of the ambulance, the policewoman quickly guided Layla to the front passenger side, opening the door and helping her in. Shutting the door, the woman stepped back as the emergency vehicle took off in the direction of Mercy Hospital.

Shifting in her seat to look through the small opening leading towards the back of the vehicle, her heart stopped again. She knew he had been bleeding profusely on the cold concrete in the equally cold October night air but, under the bright lights of the ambulance, she was horrified to see how much blood he was losing. And how pale he was. The paramedics were struggling to keep up with the blood loss and urged the driver to get to the hospital yesterday. "We need to get a move on it." Meeting Layla's terrified eyes briefly, the paramedic who had spoken quickly returned his attention to his patient, silently praying that the woman riding in the front would be strong enough. He left the thought at that.

Moving past the denial stage, Layla continued to stare at Cristian's pallid form and felt her anger towards him rising. _Cristian, don't you dare do it. Don't you dare leave me. Don't you dare leave this baby. I will never forgive you if you leave us. You hear me?!_ Feeling the tears that had temporarily stopped brimming her swollen eyelids yet again, she turned back around to face the front, watching the road ahead of them lit with streetlights and the taillights of a few cars through blurry vision and saw her life and that of her child's without Cristian in it. Hating what she saw and that she was even seeing it, she put her head in her lap and cried.

After the ambulance had arrived at the hospital, Cristian was rushed into the emergency room. Her legs feeling as though they were made of rubber, Layla was directed to an admittance intern where she tried to get her mind to focus enough to give as much information about Cristian as she possibly could. Seeing how distraught she was, the intern guided her to the waiting room and sat her down, offering to take her to the bathroom so she could wash the blood--_Cristian's blood_--off of her arms, hands, and face before getting her a cup of water and asking if there was anyone she needed to have called. Again trying to get her mind to focus, Layla remembered Cristian's mother and Antonio. Telling the intern she would be able to make the calls, she sat and tried to gather her thoughts. _This is all my fault. It could have waited another day. Why did I have to stop at the store? How am I going to tell his mother? She was just so happy._ Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she looked around briefly for her cell phone and remembered that her phone, along with her purse, were still in the Walgreens parking lot. She cursed herself as she realized she didn't have Carlotta's nor Antonio's phone numbers memorized. Feeling what was left of her resolve crumbling, she put her head in her hands and breathed deeply, trying to keep it together. _Okay. Call Adriana. Calm down and call Adriana._ Rising from her chair, she headed towards the front desk to ask to use a phone when she saw the woman who had been attacked enter the waiting room with a police officer and what looked like her purse.

Silently handing Layla her purse, she spoke softly. "How is he?"

Shaking her head and looking down, Layla replied, "I don't know."

Tears beginning to fall from the woman's eyes, she softly touched Layla's arm. "I'm so sorry."

Finally looking up, Layla met the woman's eyes and shook her head again. "It's not your fault." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "He's going to be okay." She nodded. "He's going to be okay." _Please, God, please let him be okay._ She knew the woman--she later learned her name was Diane--had been through a lot, too, but she was having a hard enough time trying to keep herself together let alone trying to assuage someone else's guilt. Quickly excusing herself, Layla opened her phone and scrolled through her address book. With trembling hands, she wrote Carlotta's number down on a brochure lying on the table next to her chair, her mind still alert enough to remember that she couldn't use her cell phone in the hospital. Deciding she wanted to use a pay phone down the hall to have some privacy, she found two quarters in her wallet and headed towards the phone, readying herself to make one of the most difficult phone calls she'd ever had to make. It was almost as bad as when she had had to call her mother to tell her Evangeline had slipped into a coma, except this time she was giving someone else's mother the terrible news. Slipping the two coins into the slot, Layla dialed Carlotta's number.

"Layla!" Carlotta spotted Layla sitting in the emergency room waiting room and ran to her. Her face and voice filled with worry for her child, she continued, "How is he? Have you heard anything? Is he alright?" Rising from her chair as Carlotta approached, Layla swallowed the lump rising in her throat and shook her head, her swollen tear ducts forcing out even more moisture.

Bringing her hands to her mouth, Carlotta fought the tears threatening to overtake her willpower not to cry. Instead of crying, she brought her arms around Layla's small frame. There they stood together, holding each other for strength, waiting on word from inside the emergency room that was flurrying with activity.

After many minutes, wrapping her arm around Layla's waist, Carlotta led her to one of the waiting room chairs. "Come on. Let's sit. Let's pray, _mija_. Everything will be alright." Taking both of Layla's hands in hers, they sat silently, both asking God to spare Cristian's life and give them the strength to get through whatever may come.

Several minutes later, Antonio, Talia, and Adriana came rushing into the room. Spotting them, Carlotta gently took her hands from Layla's and rubbed her back as her head remained downturned before rising to greet her family.

"Mami! How is he?" As the newly arrived trio gathered around Carlotta, their expressions intense with worry, the emergency room doors opened and a doctor looked over in their direction, seeing they were the only ones in the waiting room. Turning to the doctor, Antonio asked, "How is he?"

"How's my son? He's going to be alright?"

Rising from her seat, Layla hurried over to stand beside the Vegas, Carlotta again gripping her hands.

Holding her hands up to gently stave off any more questions, the female doctor spoke softly. "We're taking him to surgery immediately. The main problem right now is that he's bleeding internally. We have to get that stopped as soon as possible. The knife wound penetrated his spleen which is where most of the blood loss is occurring. Now, most people can live perfectly normal lives--"

"Wait. What? You're going to have to take his spleen?" Antonio implored.

"Once we get inside and take a look around, we'll determine how much of his spleen will have to be removed. People live perfectly normal lives with only part of their spleens intact, I assure you. Now, he also has a puncture wound in his left lung and it has collapsed so we're--"

Carlotta gasped and clutched her right hand to her chest. "_Ay, Dios._" Grabbing his mother around her waist to steady her, Antonio continued to focus on the doctor.

"We're prepping him for surgery right now. He's lost a lot of blood which is common for splenic trauma--" As soon as she spoke, the doors behind her opened and Cristian was wheeled past his family. Wanting to reach out to him, Carlotta was held in place by Antonio. "I have to get going. We're going to take good care of him. I promise." The doctor quickly hurried after Cristian's stretcher.

"Wait!" Carlotta called after the doctor. "Is he going to be okay?!"

Never one to make promises she couldn't keep, the doctor answered simply. "Yes." With that she disappeared between the closing elevator doors.

Relief flooded through all five of them as they hinged all of their hopes on the doctor's single parting word. Feeling her legs giving way beneath her, Layla immediately stumbled to the nearest chair, Antonio quickly releasing his mother to help her to her seat as he saw her stumble. _Oh, thank you, God. Thank you. I don't know what I would have done...I don't know what I would have done..._ Following Antonio, the three women gathered around her, Carlotta and Adriana particularly concerned because of her pregnancy. Once she was settled in her seat, Adriana asked, "Do you need a drink of water?" After Layla nodded in the affirmative, Adriana quickly rose and looked around the room in search of the water cooler. As Carlotta and Antonio sat in chairs flanking Layla, Carlotta again rubbed her back in comforting circles, silently thanking God that her child was going to be okay so he could be a father to his and Layla's child. He had so much to look forward to and she was so grateful he would be given another chance to experience it all.

Rubbing her head in her hands, Layla truly felt sick to her stomach, the harrowing events of the last few hours finally crashing down on her with the force of a ton of bricks. Her head was pounding and she felt lightheaded. The room was spinning and she felt as though Carlotta's meal was going to make another appearance from the place it had originally entered. Her mind and body were completely exhausted and screaming for rest. She had pushed them to their limits.

"Layla, are you okay?" Antonio studied Layla's features, worry etched on his face as she looked as though she were going to vomit. Nodding briefly, she tried to breathe deeply without moving too much and concentrated on keeping the slim contents of her stomach _in_ her stomach. "I'm okay. I'm just...relieved he's going to be okay." _Oh no_. She didn't have time to make it to the bathroom as, just as she feared, Carlotta's meal made a reappearance all over the waiting room floor. As her stomach finished heaving, Talia quickly got the attention of a nurse who in turn got the attention of an orderly. Rushing over, Antonio and Talia stepped aside so the nurse could tend to Layla.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?"

"I'm so sorry." Looking at the floor in front of her, she added embarrassment to the list of her current distresses, especially with Antonio, Carlotta, Adriana--who had returned with her cup of water--and Talia all looking at her worriedly.

"Here, let's get you over here." The nurse took Layla by her hand and sat her in another chair away from Carlotta's meal. "Have you eaten anything recently? Your blood sugar levels may be low..." Feeling her face, the nurse checked to see if she had a fever.

"Um, it's been awhile but I'm not hungry." _Cristian's in surgery with a hole in his lungs and I've got everybody worried about me_. "I'm fine. Really. I'm just--it's been a long day."

Carlotta spoke up. "She's pregnant, Nurse. Can you make sure everything's okay?"

_Oh my goodness. Tell the whole world._ Without having to look at them, Layla knew Adriana was surprised to know Carlotta knew and Antonio and Talia were surprised just in general. "I'm fine. I already feel a lot better. Really."

"Congratulations." Turning to Carlotta, the nurse continued. "I think she'll be fine, ma'am. It's not unusual for pregnant women to feel nauseous. And I'm sure she's been through a lot tonight. Usually the nausea goes away after you've vomited." Turning back to Layla, she added, "Just try to relax as much as you can. You should get something to eat as well to replace what you lost, okay?" Giving her a sympathetic smile, the nurse rose from her crouched position in front of Layla. "If you don't feel better soon, come and find me, okay? I'll be here all night. My name's Sharon."

Softly smiling back, Layla thanked her, her stomach settling while her headache continued to wreak havoc. Not feeling it was the best time to congratulate Layla on her pregnancy, Antonio offered to grab everyone a bite to eat while they waited to hear about Cristian's surgery, Talia offering to go with him to help him carry the food.

Still worried about her, Carlotta again sat next to Layla. "_Mija_, perhaps you should go home to rest. You've been through so much tonight. You need to rest. I promise--"

Violently shaking her head, Layla rejected that notion immediately. "No, I can't. I'm fine. I have to be sure he's okay--"

"I'll call you as soon as we hear anything--"

"No. I'm fine. I'm staying right here. I'm not going to be able to rest at home either so I might as well just stay here and wait." She couldn't leave him. She had to be there when he woke up. She had to see for herself the moment he woke up so she could put the fear of losing him behind her. She needed to see his eyes opened and focused on hers in that special way that made her feel as though everything, no matter how trying, would be okay.

Knowing she wasn't going to be able to change her mind, Carlotta looked up at Adriana and sighed, resigned to the idea that all five of them were going to call the waiting room home for the next several hours until they were absolutely certain Cristian was going to pull through.

At two o'clock in the morning, a nurse and a doctor they didn't recognize approached them in the waiting room, both looking exhausted but hopeful. All five of them standing up, the surgeon immediately began speaking. "He made it. He's going to be fine. He lost a lot of blood and we had to give him a transfusion but he's going to be fine."

_Oh, thank you, God!_

"_Ay, gracias Dios_!" Carlotta immediately hugged her son and cried tears of joy in his arms. Turning to Layla, who was being held by Adriana, Carlotta smiled into her face and embraced her. All cried out, Layla looked heavenward and continued to thank God for bringing Cristian back to them.

Speaking for all of them, Antonio asked, "Can we see him?"

"You all won't be able to see him all at once and it'll be family only"--at this he glanced at Layla--"but the nurse will take you up to him, okay? His attending physician will answer all of your questions up there." Smiling, he peeled off in another direction as the nurse led them to the elevators. Her heart immediately sinking, Layla knew she wouldn't be able to see him. _I know my black ass can't pass as his sister._ Knowing what Layla was thinking, Adriana squeezed her hand as they gathered in the elevator.

Inside Cristian's private room, Antonio asked the nurse, "When do you think he will wake up?"

The nurse, her name Kia as it was written on the board, shrugged slightly and spoke soothingly. "It's hard to say. Once the anesthesia has worn off, some patients need to rest a little bit longer before they wake up. He's also under some strong pain medication and antibiotics so it may be a few hours. Sometimes more, sometimes less. But he's going to be fine." Smiling softly at Antonio and Carlotta, she finished checking Cristian's vitals and exited quietly from the room.

"Mami, why don't you go home and get some sleep. You heard the doctors. He's going to be fine. I promise I'll call you the minute he wakes up. I'll be here when he does. I won't go anywhere."

"I am so tired. But I don't want to leave him."

"I'll be here. I promise. You should try to get Layla to go home and rest, too. She has to be exhausted."

"I've already tried. She won't leave." Carlotta paused and looked at her unconscious son. "She won't leave him."

Catching his mother's underlying meaning, Antonio shook his head. "Vincent's a real asshole." He chuckled briefly. "You know, I was there when Cris laid into him for hurting her when he got back from New York...They have each others' back. Cris hasn't had that in a long time."

Carlotta sighed. "It's definitely a shock but I'm glad she's going to be the mother of his child." Missing Antonio's double take, Carlotta pressed on. "She was wonderful with Jamie when she was helping you--"

"W-wait a minute, Mami. What did you say?"

Carlotta finally took her gaze from her youngest son and turned it onto her oldest. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"That Layla's pregnant."

"Well, yeah, I got that downstairs when she got sick. But what's this about Cris? He's the father???"

"Yes. _Dios mio._ I'm always the last to hear about these things with you two. I thought you knew. "

Shock registering on his face this time, Antonio looked at his brother. "Wow... I didn't even know they were together. Or if they even are...I guess I can't say I'm surprised..."

After a thoughtful pause, Carlotta again spoke to her son. "Life is always full of surprises, _mijo_."

"How are you feeling, girl?" Adriana had opted to stay in the waiting room with Layla while Antonio and Carlotta stood vigil in Cristian's room. She, Talia, and Layla had tried to get some sleep while they waited for word that Cristian was awake but it had been impossible in the waiting room chairs that felt like they were sitting on concrete blocks. At around 7 o'clock that morning, Talia had left to pick Jamie up from RJ's to get her ready for school. She had also taken Carlotta home to get some rest while Layla and Adriana kept up their own vigil outside of Cristian's room.

"I'm okay. Hungry, though. I better get something to eat soon." She sighed. She needed food, sleep, a shower, and a change of clothes but she needed to see Cristian first.

"How about I go grab us something from the cafeteria? I should probably call Blair, too. Let her know what happened and that we won't be in today. She'll probably want to come by, too, to make sure he's okay." With that, Adriana patted Layla's thigh, grabbed her purse, and headed to the cafeteria.

_Blair. I guess we have more in common now than just a love of fashion._ Blair was finally happy--if that's what it was called--with Todd and their two kids and had been making it her mission to make sure Cristian had happiness in his life as well. She had always teased Layla about Cristian on a regular basis but Layla refused to listen to her. He was her sister's ex. And even though she'd always known how gorgeous he was, she'd never considered him an option. _Gosh. I can see her now, with that drawl of hers: 'Layla! You go girl! I told you you two had the hots for each other! When are you going to make Cristian a daddy?...Oh, well, excuuuuse me. You don't need my advice anymore.'_ Chuckling to herself, Layla got up to knock on Cristian's door again. She couldn't see him through the door so she stepped back and waited for Antonio to step out to ask him about Cristian yet again.

"Hey."

"Nothing yet?"

"No, he's still out...Have you gotten any rest at all? Cristian wouldn't want you here not getting any rest."

_He knows._ "Well, then, Cristian needs to wake up and tell me that himself." She sighed heavily. "Shouldn't he be waking up by now? Are they sure everything's okay?"

Antonio nodded. "Any time now. I'll let you know when he does. I promise."

Smiling softly, Layla nodded and headed back to her chair, eyelids heavy and stomach growling.

Returning to his seat next to Cristian's bed, Antonio rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the magazine he was reading. He had gotten a few paragraphs in when he heard his brother's scratchy voice. "Wh--" he coughed harshly, his face grimacing in response to the pain it caused him. "Where's Layla?"

Antonio's head jerked up and he quickly jumped out of his chair. "Hey, _hermanito_." His smile brightened his tired features. "You scared the hell out of us. How are you feeling?"

Clearing his throat, Cristian tried to speak. "I-I'm fine." Trying to clear his throat further, he gestured with his right hand toward his neck.

"You need some water or some ice chips?"

Cristian nodded.

"Hold on. I'll get the nurse." Turning to leave, he patted his brother's shoulder before Cristian weakly reached for his hand.

His voice raspy, he spoke as clearly as he could. "Layla."

"She's right outside. She's been here the whole time."

His voice a near whisper, he continued. "I need to see her."

Doubt changing his features, Antonio told his brother, "I don't think they'll let her in, Cris. Immediate family only." When he saw his brother begin to get agitated he quickly added, "I'll see what I can do, okay? Let me go get the nurse and let everyone know you're awake."

Leaving Cristian's room, Antonio saw Adriana returning with food while Layla sat in the same chair she'd been in since they moved upstairs. A huge grin on his face, he announced, "He's awake."

Layla and Adriana both jumped out of their seats. "He is? How is he? Is he okay?" Layla's questions were coming at a rapid-fire pace but she was too overwhelmed and ecstatic to stop them.

"I need to get the nurse but he's okay. He's talking and he's alert." He knew adding this next part would get her anxious but he told her anyway. "He's asking to see you but I don't know if they'll let you in." _Dammit! All of this and I can't even see him!_ "I better go get the nurse." Looking to Adriana, Antonio asked, "Can you call, Mami?" Nodding, Adriana immediately headed towards the phone.

_Thank you, God._ Walking over to the door separating her from Cristian, she stood trying to figure out a way to get in. She wasn't family. _But this baby is_. Looking around to see if anyone was watching her, she saw Antonio at the nurse's station and went for it.

There he was. Pale but just as beautiful as he'd always been. _He's really okay._ Fighting back the tears, she walked toward his side as he turned his head in her direction and smiled weakly. "Hey." His voice was incredibly raspy but it was the best sound she'd heard in hours.

Fighting back a sob--_I'm not going to cry_--she smiled and threw his word back at him. "Hey." His soft brown eyes locked onto hers and wouldn't let go. She felt her heart skip a beat and at that moment wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and feel what she felt that night several weeks ago. Feeling herself drawing nearer to him as his eyes beckoned her, the door opened breaking their trance. Antonio, Adriana (she wasn't about to wait outside either), and a new nurse entered the room, the nurse carrying what looked like ice chips. Antonio winked at Layla as the nurse spoke to her patient.

"Hello, Cristian. How are you feeling? My name's Davina."

All three of them stepped out of the way of the nurse as she proceeded to make sure Cristian was comfortable and gave him the ice chips. Explaining that she was going to let his physician know he was awake, the nurse left, apparently not caring that at least one of them was most likely not one of her patient's family members and technically was not allowed to be there.

Adriana approached her cousin and gave him a kiss on his forehead. "Hey. Don't ever scare me like this again." Cristian smiled and spoke, the ice chips helping to soothe his dry throat. "I'll try not to."

Antonio spoke next. "Is Mami coming? Does she need me to pick her up?"

"No, she's on her way."

"Is she okay?" Cristian asked. He hated putting his mother through more worrying about him.

"She's okay. She was here all night but I got her to go home to get some rest a couple of hours ago by promising to call her the minute you decided to wake up and stop worrying everybody to death." Antonio playfully punched his brother in his shoulder.

Turning to Layla, Cristian studied her features, remembering what his brother told him about her being there for him the entire night. She looked completely exhausted. Beautiful but exhausted. And it was all his fault. "I'm really okay, Layla. You need to go home and get some rest. I'll feel a lot better if I know you're getting some sleep."

"Cristian, I'm fine. You're the one who just got out of surgery."

"Please go home and rest. For me." _Damn him. How am I going to say 'no' now?_ Admitting her defeat, she glanced at Adriana and Antonio, both giving her that _He's got you there_ look. She sighed loudly.

"Okay. But I'm going to remember this the next time I want you to do something for me."

He only smiled softly, the short visit from his loved ones already fatiguing him. "Thank you."

Adriana leaned back down to give her cousin another kiss on his forehead. "I'll be back, okay? I'll take her home and make sure she gets some rest. Is there anything you want me to bring back?" He shook his head and closed his eyes.

"I'll be back later today, okay?" Layla resisted the urge to give him a kiss on his cheek like she usually did whenever she was leaving him. It seemed so...tame...now. Considering.

For her, he opened his tired eyes and replied. "Okay. I won't go anywhere. I promise." Layla smirked at him and left his room with Adriana, the peace in her troubled spirit finally restored. _He's going to be okay._ She knew as soon as she got home and showered, she would be able to fall asleep the minute her head hit her pillow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Hey." Layla breezed into Cristian's hospital room fresh from work with her favorite green bag thrown over her shoulder. "You still reading those books?" She smiled as she strolled directly over to the chair situated next to Cristian's hospital bed and sat down, depositing her purse next to her chair. It had been five days since that terrible night. His color was finally completely back to normal, his prognosis was good, and he was clearly getting anxious to go home and sleep in his own bed.

"Well." He sighed and closed the pregnancy book from the library Layla had brought him, using a brochure as a bookmark, so he could focus his attention on his beautiful visitor. "I can't do anything else _except_ lie here and read." He sighed again, a frown marring his features.

"There's TV."

He lazily turned to face her. She looked tired. And upset but trying to hide it. "Jerry Springer and Judge Judy are not what I call entertainment."

"There are soaps." He gave her a _That's cute_ sarcastic look before turning serious again. "I know you're ready to get out of here." She reached out and rubbed his exposed forearm, trying to keep the subject matter focused on him as she noticed him looking a little too deeply into her eyes.

Staring at her intensely, Cristian decided to probe. "Are you okay?"

He always made her nervous when he stared at her like that. Like he could look into her soul and uncover all of her secrets. Then make mad, passionate love to her when he was done stripping her of all of her innermost thoughts. Shaking that image from her mind, she tried to keep up her happy facade anyway. "I'm fine, Cris. It was a long day at work." Wanting to change the subject, she kept talking. "So," she let out a long stream of air, "have you learned everything you need to know about being pregnant?" She figured teasing him would distract him. She really didn't want to get into her mother and her right now.

"Yeah, pretty much. I learned stress isn't good for you." He continued to stare at her. And she continued to feel uncomfortable. But diverting her eyes from his was a sure-fire way to show him he was making her uneasy, so she refused to let the daggers he was piercing her with run her away. 

"Stress isn't good for anybody, including you."

He broke eye contact with her and nodded. "True..." He found her eyes again. "So tell me why you're stressed and we'll both feel better."

_I hate him. No, I really do hate him._ With more vitriol than she had intended, she retorted, "Maybe I'm stressed because you scared me half to death playing Superhero!" As soon as the words escaped her mouth she regretted them. One, because she didn't need him to know just how badly shaken up the ordeal had left her and two, because she knew he wasn't "playing" anything--helping people even if he didn't like them was deeply bred within him and a huge part of who he was. His mama had raised him right.

Not visually bothered by her small outburst, he stated simply, "She needed help."

Calming down immediately, Layla replied, "I know. I know." She looked down into her lap, shaking her head. "I didn't mean that. You just..." _Scared the hell out of me because I realized I need you in my life and that's the scariest thing of all._ She didn't finish her thoughts out loud.

He continued to gaze at her. She had come to visit him everyday since he had been hospitalized. She brought the books from the library that were left in her car. She went to his studio and found a sketch pad and graphite pencils and brought them to him. She had even sneaked in some of his mother's cooking when she had stopped at the diner for lunch the day before. It warmed his heart more than he could have ever imagined. It was incredibly uncomfortable having someone--especially someone as beautiful as she was--doting on him when she had no obligation to do so. He was not used to it. It was upsetting his usual order of things. His mother and his brother he could get to leave him to his own devices. Layla, however, he could not. He had tried around Day Two of his hospitalization. But he had to admit he liked it. He liked it and it made him want her even more than he already did. "I didn't mean to scare you. I never want to do that." She finally met his eyes again and this time he looked away.

Gathering her emotions about her and trying to lighten the mood, she teased. "I just want this kid to be able to meet her famous artist dad when she's born."

Looking back into her eyes, he knew he shouldn't ask but he did anyway. "Is that the only reason?"

_I so hate him...Come on phone. Ring! Come through the door, nurse...Damn!_ He had returned to giving her that stare again. That damn penetrating stare. Stalling, she asked, "The only reason what?"

He knew he really shouldn't press her. He had told himself to focus on their baby and leave everything else alone. The Evangeline issue was something Layla would have to handle in her own way in her own time. If she ever would. "The only reason you were scared for me?"

_Ring!!...Damn phone. Nevermind._ "Of course not. You're my friend. Nobody wants to lose their friend. Especially like that." _Pat yourself on the back. Go ahead._ She returned his stare. _Forget it. He sees right through you._

"Okay. Friend. Are you going to tell me why you were upset when you walked in here?"

_Back to that I see._ Layla sighed. The man was relentless. Beautiful, caring, thoughtful...but relentless. "Is it okay if I really don't want to get into it right now? I came to see how you were doing, not talk about me."

He pursed his lips as he thought about what she said. "Okay. Fair enough. I'm fine and ready to get the hell out of here. So, now that you know how I'm doing, tell me how you're doing."

_He really gets on my nerves. I should just walk out of here and leave his narrow behind._ But she didn't. Taking in a large amount of air, she told him. "Mom called me today. Told me she got Evangeline moved back home. Just like that. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye." Her resentment towards her mother made her grit her teeth. "Now I have to fly all the way to Atlanta to see her." Getting up from her chair to pace, she found that she was telling him more than she planned. Like always. Pausing at the window, she looked out at the view.

Watching her at the window, he spoke to her back. "Isn't that where most of your family is? Where your mom won't have to fly back and forth every week to visit her?" He understood that she was upset because she hadn't been given a chance to say goodbye to her sister before she was moved but he wasn't understanding why it was bothering her so much.

"That's not the point."

She stopped speaking. After many seconds of waiting for her to continue, Cristian spoke instead. "What is the point?" He knew whatever she was about to tell him wasn't something she talked about much. If ever. Her body language was telling him as much.

She really didn't want to get into this now. "You don't understand. She...She always treats me like I don't know what I'm doing. Like I was always the problem child. The one with the pipe dreams that would never come true. The one "wasting" her life instead of doing something "worthwhile" like being a lawyer." She sighed and continued, realizing that she was feeling slightly better just by talking about it, letting it out. "We talked about this. I wanted Evangeline to stay here. Where her life was. Because I knew she'd come back. Taking her back home meant this could be permanent, you know? Like taking someone's body home for their burial." She shook her head and looked down, away from the cloudy sky outside the window. "Mom--she's retired. She used to always talk about moving here to be near us. So I told her she should move here like she always talked about, to be near both of us and wait for Vange to wake up." The resentment creeping back into her voice, she pressed on. "But she came to get her favorite daughter to take her back home with her and leave me here with my "silly" magazine job and my washed-up acting career... And to top it all off, she took my only sister without even letting me say goodbye." She had visited her sister for the first time since finding out she was pregnant after work that past Tuesday, before visiting Cristian. And, no, she still hadn't found the courage to tell her she was pregnant. Or by whom.

Not really knowing what to say, and certain Layla wasn't finished talking, Cristian remained silent, looking absentmindedly at his feet sticking up underneath the white sheet, his heart breaking as he learned about the strained relationship Layla had with her mother.

"I know, in her own special way, she loves me. I love her, too. But...it always feels like I can never do anything right in her eyes. Now, Daddy...He was always proud of me. I told him I wanted to be an actress, he told me to go for it and bring that Oscar home to sit on his mantel. I never had to work to get his approval. He always told me, no matter what, he would be proud of me." Her eyes began to water as she thought about what she'd finally figured out around the time she left home at eighteen. "Vange, she always felt like she had something to prove to him. She never did but she always felt like she did." She finally turned around to face Cristian, sniffing as she kept the moisture in her eyes from spilling over. "It's weird. It's like she thought I was Daddy's favorite while I thought she was Mom's." She looked down at the floor and smiled a sad, soft smile to herself. "Even with all of that, though, we never let it come between us. I mean, we've had our moments, but it was never a problem. When I wasn't getting the encouragement from Mom, she gave it to me. She told me I was going to make it in Hollywood, too. When I wanted to try out for basketball in high school, she and my dad were always there to support me."

Smiling for the first time since she began speaking, Cristian teased. "I didn't know you played ball."

She smiled back. "Yeah. You didn't think I could play, did you?"

"No, well yeah, well, I just never thought about it."

Her grin widened. "Yeah. I was hot stuff back in the day. What about you? I always figured you were in your room painting when the other boys were outside playing football and basketball..."

"Well, yeah, I was, but I can play."

"Mmm hmm. I'll believe that when I see it, buster."

"You want to challenge me to a little one-on-one, name the time and place." This he said with a certain undertone she did not miss. Deciding to play along, her expression turned serious.

"You sure you can handle it? You _are_ laying up here in a hospital."

Eyes boring into hers again, he spoke, his voice husky and deeper than usual. "Oh, I can handle it."

_Why do I want him so bad? This isn't right._ Right or not, she stood there gazing at him, allowing him to fuck her with his eyes, and enjoying it way too much, as the moisture between her thighs indicated. _I have to stop this._ "I better get going. My stomach's growling. This kid has me eating almost as much as you."

He smiled. "Her?"

She looked at him, confused at what he meant. "'Her' what?"

"Awhile ago...You said you wanted 'her' to meet her father."

"So?"

"You think it's going to be a girl?"

"I didn't say that."

He chuckled but stopped immediately, as the movement pulled at this sore insides. "Yes, you did."

Noticing the brief, pained expression on his face, her concern became evident. "Are you okay? Are you due for your pain meds?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

At that moment, someone softly knocked on the door to his room. Both looking towards the door, they watched as Diane--the woman who had been attacked--entered with a huge potted plant and a large balloon arrangement along with a male companion.

Diane and her companion entered his room cautiously, not wanting to startle Mr. Vega. The last time she had stopped by to thank him, he had been asleep so she had had to decide to return later.

"Mr. Vega?"

"Yes?" Recognizing her as she turned the corner in his room and stood at the foot of his bed, he smiled. "Hi."

Noticing him looking at her companion in wait of an introduction, she spoke. "Hi. This is my husband, Barry."

Cristian nodded at her husband and smiled. "Hello."

Barry smiled back and replied, "Hi. How are you?"

Taking hold of the conversation again, Diane continued. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. Doctors say I might be able to go home tomorrow."

"That's wonderful." Looking around for a place to set the plant and the balloons, she continued cheerfully, "Well, we wanted to bring you these." She and her husband settled on placing the plant and balloons next to the seven other sets of flowers and balloons Jamie (representing the Vegas), Blair, Adriana, Jessica, Natalie, Viki, and Dorian had brought him. Layla had opted to bring him some chocolate and his sketchpad for a "Get well soon" gift.

"Thank you...Very much." He genuinely appreciated the gesture.

"I see you have a lot of 'Get Well' wishes already," Barry said.

Cristian smiled softly to himself. "I'm very blessed."

Walking to stand next to his bed, Diane spoke, her voice shaking as the emotion caught in her throat. "I just wanted to say thank you. You saved my life. I don't know what would've happened to me if you--" she glanced at Layla--"both of you hadn't been there."

Looking into the woman's grateful eyes, Cristian didn't regret for one moment stepping in to help her. He reached out and grabbed her hand as it rested on the edge of the bed. "I'm glad you're okay."

Her husband spoke up. "Yes, Mr. Vega, I can't thank you enough. She's--" he glanced at his wife, "She's my whole world. I don't know what I would've done without her."

Cristian looked at Layla, who was standing off near the door, when he said, "I know what you mean." Turning his attention back to his guests, he continued. "And, please. It's Cristian."

Diane spoke, having hemmed up her scattered emotions. "Well, then, thank you again, Cristian."

Shaking his head, he replied, "It was nothing. Really." The praise and accolades from everybody were making him uncomfortable. He didn't do anything anybody else wouldn't have done in the same situation. Wanting to change the subject somewhat, he asked, "Have they found him yet?"

"They have. That's the other reason we wanted to stop by. They caught him a couple of hours ago, thank God."

Barry finished his wife's story. "Yeah, in broad daylight. He tried to attack another woman but she was able to knock him out cold with something she found in the alley. The cops thought he might have been involved in your attack so Diane went down to the station and was able to identify him. She had seen him in the store that night staring at her and that's when she got a good look at him."

Cristian nodded. "That's great. He's off the streets."

Diane nodded solemnly. "Yeah." Looking towards her husband, she didn't want to overstay their welcome. "Well, we better get going and let you get some rest. If you ever need anything, anything at all, let us know. We won't hesitate to do anything we can to help. We owe you that much." Leaving his side to join her husband at the foot of his bed, they thanked him again and excused themselves from his room.

Approaching his side again, Layla smiled down to him. "You hated that didn't you?"

Cristian sighed and shook his head. "I didn't do anything special."

"Sure you didn't."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, sending tingles down her spine. "Are you getting ready to leave me?"

_His bottom lip is so juicy. And soft_. "You keep telling me to get some rest, don't you?"

"You're right." He released her hand and shifted in the bed trying to get comfortable. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will. Call me tomorrow if they decide to let you go home." _Fight the lips. Fight them!_ She kissed him softly at the corner of his mouth and turned to leave. _Good job._

"Okay. Here we are." Layla opened the door to Cristian's loft two days later, her arms laden with her purse, his overnight bag, his medication, and him. Once inside his studio, he broke free of her steadying arm around his waist and walked at a snail's pace to one of his yellow chairs to sit down as gently as he possibly could. Layla had stood there watching him, shaking her head. He was being such a damn man.

He didn't want his mother to bring him home from the hospital to get him settled because he didn't want her "babying" him as he called it. He didn't want Layla bringing him home either for the same reason. His brother, now, he _did_ want to bring him home because his brother understood. He would make sure he had what he needed, remind him to take it easy, and leave, telling him to call if he needed anything. That was the way he had wanted it to go. That was the way it was supposed to go. But here he was, being brought home by Layla at a quarter after six on a Sunday evening, a week after the stabbing that had landed him in the hospital and left him with half a spleen.

Although he never wanted to admit it to her, the trip home had damn near killed him. It was hell even walking. Every step he took felt like something was pulling on his stitched up insides and caused him some serious discomfort. He felt every bump on the ride home--Layla drove like a damn madwoman--and didn't know if he was going to make it to his building from her car, let alone up the elevator and down the hall to his apartment. The sweat glistening his forehead, he sat in his chair trying to gather the strength to make it up his winding staircase to his bed.

Finished shaking her head at his stubbornness, Layla silently walked up the stairs and deposited his bag and medication next to his bed. Taking a brief look around, she wondered how he was going to make it by himself in his apartment until his body healed. It was always a good idea to have someone around to take care of you while you recovered from major surgery. Sighing deeply to herself, she turned and walked back down the stairs, finding him right where she left him. "Cristian, maybe you should go to Antonio's for a few days. I don't want to worry about you being here by yourself. You can barely walk."

Cristian sighed. "Layla, for the tenth time, I'll be fine. I wanted out of that hospital so I could sleep in my own bed. Not Antonio's bed. Not Mami's bed. _My_ bed."

_Why is he acting like a two year old?_ "Fine. Then I'll call your mother to come over here and--"

He glared at her. "Don't even think about it." He was dead serious.

_...A two year old starting to tick me off._ "Don't argue with me, Cristian. You wanted to take care of me while I'm pregnant, I'm going to take care of you while you're still hurt."

_Damn. Using my own words against me,_ he thought. "Layla..."

She noticed how his accent was more pronounced when he said her name this time. He was beginning to get frustrated with her as well. "Okay, Cristian, look. You have three options. You go to Antonio's, I call your mother to stay with you, or I stay here with you. Either way, you're not going to be alone so give it up." She didn't know why she tossed that last option in there. _You really need to stop speaking before you think._ Staying with him was not a good idea. Things could happen and they'd already happened enough.

He continued to glare at her, not saying a word. She gave his attitude right back to him. _Stubborn jackass_.

"I don't need a babysitter."

Layla rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, deciding to come at him from a different angle. "I don't care. You are seriously raising my blood pressure, Cristian. After all of that reading you did, you ought to know that's not good for me _or your child_."

_Using my own kid against me._ She was going to win this round. And he knew it. So, he considered his options. He wasn't going to stay with Antonio, Talia, and Jamie. He needed to be in the comfort of his own home, surrounded by the familiar smell of oil and acrylic and his own damn bed. Layla was too dangerous an option. She was beautiful, already pregnant with his baby, and ticked off at him. But, his mother was the worst. He could just see her coming into the bathroom with him to help him clean himself up. _'Mijo, don't argue with me. I'm your mother. You haven't got anything I've never seen before.'_

Layla stood in front of his seated form, arms crossed, waiting on another retort from him. Not at all happy with the situation, Cristian grasped both sides of the chair and slowly raised himself out of it. Hunched over, he looked straight into her eyes. "I'm going upstairs."

She watched as he turned towards the stairwell. "What's it going to be, Cristian?"

Damn he hated this. "I'm not a very good patient so I don't want to hear any complaints."

_So he picked option three. This was so not a good idea. Me and my big mouth._ Knowing this was bothering him more than a little, she decided not to argue with him and followed as he made the slow trek up to his bedroom.

Completely exhausted, Cristian settled his sore body down onto the edge of his bed.

"Here, let me get these set up for you." Layla reached across his bed and grabbed the two pillows, fluffing them and setting one on top of the other. "Here." She took her small, strong hands and gently helped him settle against them. "How's that?"

In answer, he only nodded and closed his eyes, hating that he wasn't free to move around or work down in his studio. He had deadlines to meet and refused to ask for an extension. Wanting to leave him alone for awhile while he adjusted to his predicament, Layla decided to get something to eat. "Are you hungry?"

He opened one eye to look at her. "I could use something." Then, he promptly closed it.

Leaning over, she took each of his feet and removed his shoes. His voice barely a whisper, he acknowledged the gesture. "Thank you." He sounded so pitiful. Defeated and pitiful. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she leaned in towards him and brought her right hand up to softly stroke his cheek. Why, she didn't really know. He slowly opened his eyes and held hers hostage yet again. Then his eyes fell to her mouth. God, he wanted to kiss her. Taste her full lips again.

When she noticed her hand beginning to tremble slightly, she pulled it away as discreetly as she could. Tearing her eyes away from his face, she picked at some invisible lint on her pants and asked, "So, what are you in the mood for?"

_Sex. With you._ "Whatever you're in the mood for. After that hospital food, I'm not going to be picky."

Turning back to look at him, she made a suggestion. "How about Italian? I've been craving some pasta all day."

Shifting to get more comfortable, Cristian replied, "That sounds good."

"I'm thinking Olive Garden." She glanced at her watch. "I better go before they close. What do you want?"

"Doesn't matter. Just order me whatever you get. I'll eat anything."

_Get your mind out of the gutter, Layla._

"I think my wallet's in my bag."

"I've got this." Rising off of the bed, Layla continued. "I'll be right back."

"Layla, get the money out of my wallet. You're going to get the food. The least I can do is pay for it."

"Bye, Cristian." She waved over her shoulder and walked straight to the staircase, right past his bag and wallet. Cristian shook his head and sighed. _Be careful_.

Two hours later, Layla returned with their food. The restaurant had taken forever to prepare their Tuscan Garlic Chicken entrees so she had to rush to get back, needing to drop by her place to pick up her toiletries, pajamas, and a change of clothes. She had forgotten to leave a phone within Cristian's reach so she didn't want to call to let him know what the hold up was so that he had to get up off the bed and possibly hurt himself. Grabbing two glasses and a bottle of ginger ale from his kitchen on her way up, she entered his upper quarters and found him missing from the bed. "Cristian?" She called his name as she looked around the room, setting the food and glasses on his desk and dropping her overnight bag and purse on the floor. "Cris!"

"In the bathroom." She heard his muffled reply and walked to stand outside the slightly ajar bathroom door.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm in the bathroom."

"Oh, are we back to having an attitude?"

Cristian sighed as he struggled to change his bandages. Taking a shower he so desperately wanted after not having had one in a week while trying to keep his stitches as dry as possible had completely zapped his energy. "_Lo siento._"

"What?"

"You don't know what that means?"

"You know I took French."

Laughing softly to himself, Cristian stopped immediately, as the action pulled at his sore muscles. Softening his tone, he told her, "I said 'I'm sorry.'"

"Are you okay?"

_I KNOW she can't tell I'm having a hell of a time trying to get this shit right._ "_Si_... You know what that means, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she ignored his last question. "What are you doing? Do you need help?"

"I'll be out in a minute."

Not believing everything was okay in the bathroom, Layla decided to check it out. "I'm coming in."

_What the...?_ Cristian thought as she slowly opened the door to the bathroom at the same time she was giving him a verbal warning. Clearly, she didn't believe in making sure a person was decent before barging into his bathroom.

_Oh good Lord. He's in his drawers. Turn around and leave, Layla, turn around and leave!_

Looking at her like she was an alien from outer space, Cristian couldn't believe she just waltzed up into his bathroom like that. "What are you doing?" Leaning against his bathroom counter in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs, Cristian was trying to bandage the wound just below his left pectoral muscle where the knife had gone between his ribs and punctured his lung. His other wound he had managed to tape before she came barging in.

Flustered as all hell--_He has a body for DAYS_--Layla quickly found her voice and willed it not to betray her. "I'm m-making sure you're okay. Here--look. What-what are you doing? Here." Her thoughts just a fraction away from pure lust, Layla rushed over to stand in front of him. She could swear she was feeling the heat radiating off of his chiseled body. "Come here. Sit down." Grabbing one of his hands that was holding the untaped bandage to his wound, she led him over to his toilet, putting the seat and lid down, and gently helped him sit down.

Sighing, Cristian voiced his lack of comfort over the situation. "Layla, you don't need to do this."

Kneeling down on the rug in front of him, she looked up into his face. _His ridiculously beautiful face_. "Will you please just shut up and let me help you?"

Resigned to his predicament once again, Cristian studied her face as she avoided his eyes and worked on applying his bandage. Her soft hands were warm on his bare chest as her feather-light touch aroused his senses. His heart began beating faster and he wondered if she could feel it. He wanted her. She was pissing him off with the over-protectiveness yet turning him on at the same time. And she was so damn beautiful. Mocha skin so soft and smooth. And she had the biggest heart and a fiery spirit to match that lit up the room every time she entered. He wanted her so bad. All of her. Her body, heart, mind, and soul. She was the last person he should be feeling so consumed by but he knew one can never control his heart. He could either fight it or follow where it leads. And his was leading to the mother of his child, his first child, his only child. His best friend outside of his brother. His stunning, over-protective best friend.

Trying to keep her focus on her task, Layla's heart began pounding in her chest. Being this close to him, feeling his warm skin beneath her fingers, was lighting her body on fire. And it wasn't helping that she could feel his eyes trained on her, looking into the depths of her soul, radiating the heat she felt rising in her body. This whole thing was ridiculous. And shouldn't be happening. She shouldn't have made love to him. She shouldn't have gotten pregnant. She shouldn't be feeling like she was complete when she was with him. She shouldn't have felt a part of her would die if he'd been killed the week before. She shouldn't have wanted to spend as much time as she could with him while he was in the hospital. Her heart shouldn't flutter whenever he looked at her. And, most importantly, she shouldn't be feeling what she felt the last time she fell in love. It was so wrong.

Quickly finishing with his bandage as her hands began trembling once again, she cleared her throat and spoke. "Okay. There we go." Rising from her knees, Layla reached down and set her hands on his either side of his waist, intending to help him from his seated position. Rising slowly in her grasp, Cristian stood as straight as he could in front of her, his body an inch from hers. Suddenly the air changed from one of unease to one laced with sexual energy. Being unable to move, Layla's eyes found their way to his lips. _Those soft lips._ Then they moved to his eyes, as if drawn by the force of a magnetic field.

Bringing his right hand up, he softly caressed her left cheek, her soft skin escalating his need to be close to her. Eyes breaking from hers, they found their way to her lips, where his thumb soon followed. Feeling his nature begin to rise, he took one small step towards her, his body effectively pressing against hers. Pain becoming an afterthought, he couldn't take it anymore. He had to taste her again. Taking his thumb from her lips, he slid his hand down to her chin and lifted it, his eyes searching hers again, seeing his need reflected in the windows to her soul. Parting her lips slightly and rising onto her tip-toes, she closed her eyes as she felt his soft lips lightly brush her bottom one before taking it between his. As he ran his tongue along her lip in his mouth, she felt herself becoming lightheaded and a soft moan escaped her throat. Pushing her lips further apart with his own, he felt her tongue immediately start a slow dance with his as his hands fell to her ample ass, squeezing it then sliding beneath the waistband of her yellow French Terry sweatpants to wrap around it unclothed before finding her sweet spot from behind. She whimpered—he remembered that sweet sound from that night. Their slow tongue dancing soon worked its way into a feverish salsa. Layla heard and felt a grunt rumble in her mouth as her hands softly slid down his abdomen and found his gun, cocked and loaded. She wasn't thinking. She wasn't thinking because she slid her hand inside his boxer-briefs and ran it along his throbbing dick, causing him to grunt even louder, from either pleasure or pain or a mixture of both. Then her wayward hands pulled him free from his underwear, pushing them down his huge, muscular thighs with one swift motion. Desire outweighing the pain in his upper body, Cristian stumbled forward, pinning Layla to the wall of the bathroom, tongue still engaged with hers, trying to gain back control. As soon as they hit the wall, he removed his hands from inside her pants, sliding them down along with her underwear as far as he could without changing his posture, his hands immediately finding the zipper that would free her from her yellow French Terry top and sliding it down...


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

As soon as they hit the wall, he removed his hands from inside her pants, sliding them down along with her underwear as far as he could without changing his posture, his hands immediately finding the zipper that would free her from her yellow French Terry top and sliding it down. Seconds later, she was indeed free. Stepping out of her pants and panties while simultaneously sliding her feet out of her socks and yellow and white Nikes, she kicked them aside, still stroking his substantial erection, still making him moan deeply, still enjoying the low, rumbling sounds she was eliciting from him. Tearing his mouth from hers so he could breathe--shallow breaths to lessen the pain he was trying desperately to ignore--he dipped his head slightly to run his tongue and teeth along her right earlobe while he freed her from her bra. Massaging her breasts with his warm hands, Cristian heard her moan and felt her hand leave his engorged member and cup the side of his face, drawing his mouth from her ear back to her lips, where she proceeded to again take his very much needed breath away. In retribution, he reached between them with his right hand and stroked her wet clit again before inserting one, then two thick fingers inside of her, pumping in and out, hitting her spot over and over again. Relinquishing his mouth, she couldn't stop the cries of intense pleasure from escaping her lips. Quickly recapturing her lips and tongue as she did him--muffling the strained sound of his name from her throat--he finally removed his fingers as he felt her slip from her tip toes and her body get weak, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold her up in his own weakened state. Not able to take the anticipation any longer, Layla decided she needed to feel all of him inside of her, filling her up to capacity. _Right now._ With both hands flat on his rock hard chest, she pushed him backwards towards the toilet seat, fully intending to straddle and have him there. Her mind a haze of carnal desire and her mouth still molded to his, she rushed him backwards, pushing him down onto the toilet seat lid and straddling him, the quick movement causing him to involuntarily release a sharp groan that this time was undeniably one of pain. The sound breaking through her haze, she immediately pried her lips from his and looked into his eyes, panting heavily, instantly remembering that the man she was about to ride with no shame had only gotten home from the hospital hours ago. "Oh shit!...Cristian...I'm sorry." She gasped for air. "I'm sorry...What...What are we doing?" Her breathing was ragged as she tried to speak and ignore her aching vagina. "What are we doing?" she asked again, her hands still on his chest, her head down while she thought about the reason they shouldn't have done what they just did that had nothing to do with Cristian's physical well-being.

Still trying to take in small amounts of air and get the blood back to his brain, Cristian placed his right hand under her chin, lifting her head up so she could look into his eyes. "It's...okay, Layla." He, too, gasped for air while trying to get sex off his mind and out of his dick. While his spirit had been more than willing, his body had betrayed it. But he soon realized it was for the best. Emotionally, Layla wasn't ready for this. He berated himself for getting things started and reneging on his vow to focus on the life they had created together and nothing more.

Leaning forward, Layla rested her forehead against his, shaking her head from side to side. Both still trying to fill their lungs with air, Layla spoke again, her voice quavering with emotion. "Why do we keep doing this?" After several seconds, Cristian wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her naked body to his chest. Succumbing to the comfort he was providing, she rested her head against his shoulder, her thoughts running wild. Why was this man always making her lose the sense God gave her? Making her give her body to him so easily? Her mind?...Her heart? His arms enveloping her in a tranquility that astounded her, her mouth started forming words she couldn't believe she was sharing. "I can't keep doing this, Cristian...I can't keep...wanting you when I feel like I'm stabbing my sister in the back." Surprised at her own candor, Layla considered her current predicament and realized she shouldn't be. _It's not like he can't see right through me._ His baby was already growing inside of her and here she was, straddling his thighs on his toilet completely naked after being fully prepared to give him all of her. Again. And in spite of her troubled mind, he was making her feel strangely serene. Again. She was totally and completely vulnerable in every way with him. Again. So why was she surprised that she was sharing her inner turmoil with him?

The blood back to his brain now, Cristian's thoughts finally became lucid. The surprise at her vocal admission of wanting him subsiding, he spoke, still holding her in his arms. "I want you, too, Layla." Preparing himself to make the sacrifice for her peace of mind, he continued. "But if you need me to keep my distance, I will." Lifting her head from his shoulder, effectively loosening his grasp on her, she looked into his eyes, her heart stopping just at the thought of being away from him for any length of time. _No. No. That's not what I need. That's not what I want._ "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself and the baby until it's born," _while I try to keep myself from going crazy from missing you_, he thought.

_Why is he so sweet? What the hell was my sister thinking putting this man last when he always puts the people he cares about first?_ Shaking her head as he spoke and looking into his solemn eyes, she voiced her thoughts while trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears. "No...No, that's not what I want." _I want you._ She swore she could see the relief in his eyes when she spoke those words and knew he didn't want to be away from her anymore than she wanted to be away from him.

Sniffing as he gently wiped her tears away, she felt him shift forward on the seat, saw him grimace slightly from the movement, and stared into his eyes as he brought his face an inch from hers. She was captivated. And nothing would break the trance. As if they had a mind of their own, her lips parted once again as he began to kiss her, a kiss so sensual, deep, wet, and lingering she felt her entire body go limp and her mind become a useless mass of short-circuiting neurons. Reluctantly breaking away, Cristian looked into her eyes and caressed her cheek. "It's okay, Layla. Everything's going to be okay. Take all the time you need. I'll be here." He gently touched her belly. "For both of you." He knew what he was feeling and who and what he wanted and that he was as reconciled as he could be that the woman he was falling in love with was Evangeline's sister. Evangeline was his past. He would always care, always want her to be happy, but she ceased to hold his heart long before that night in September.

_Who is he kidding? 'Take all the time you need while I kiss every bit of willpower and doubt out of your body.'_ She knew she didn't need time to sort out her feelings for him. Those were clear as day. They scared the hell out of her but they were there and they were not going away. In fact, they were strengthening every minute that went by that she spent with him. The feeling that she was betraying her sister, however, was not diminishing. Her mind was telling her this whole situation was not right but her heart wasn't listening. It was sticking its fingers in its ears singing "La La La" anytime her mind tried to communicate. Nodding her head, she took a deep breath, came back down to earth, and looked around them before finding his eyes again. "This is kind of awkward, isn't it?" She smiled sheepishly, feeling every bit as naked as she was.

Smiling softly, Cristian nodded. "Just a little."

"I know our food's probably ice cold by now."

"Probably."

_Um. Yeah. Very awkward. I have to get my butt-naked ass up off of him and walk it over to my clothes._ Looking into his eyes one final time, she resisted the damn near consuming urge to kiss him again and instead rose off of him, walking over to her clothes that were strewn over the bathroom floor. _No sense in being shy now. He's seen it all and then some._ Remembering his injuries, she stopped as she picked up her panties, preparing to put them back on where they belonged, and picked up his underwear. Watching as he painfully forced himself off of the toilet--it was way too dangerous to help him while they were both completely naked--she took the few steps over to him and handed them to their owner.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Still holding them in his hand, he decided to excuse himself from the bathroom to give her some privacy and himself some since he didn't want her seeing him struggle to put them back on. _Even though SHE took them off._ "You can have the bathroom. I think I'm finished." He winked at her--_Damn that was sexy_, she thought--and slowly strolled out of his bathroom, closing the door as he exited. She shouldn't have done it but she watched his retreating back as he left, her eyes glued to his round, taut, and toned ass. _Lord have mercy._ Shuddering, she went to work putting her panties back on when she glanced at her watch. It was almost nine o'clock. Deciding she might as well take a shower, she looked around his bathroom and spotted some clean towels on the shelf in the corner. Grabbing one, she wrapped it around herself and left the bathroom to grab her bag. Seeing him sitting on the edge of his bed settling his underwear back in place, she offered in explanation, "I just came out to get my bag. It's getting late so I figured I'd go ahead and take a shower."

Looking at her in his red towel as she walked across his room to his desk where her bag was left, he felt himself becoming excited again and tried to temper the feeling by teasing her. "So you're still staying?"

Grabbing her bag and heading back towards the bathroom, she paused and looked at him. "What? You think you scared me away?"

"Maybe."

"Sorry, buster. I don't scare that easily."

"Neither do I."

_I swear...Why won't he put his damn clothes on so I can focus when I'm talking to him?_ "Do you need me to grab your pajamas?"

Pressing his fists into the mattress to raise himself off the bed, he shook his head and replied. "No, I can get it."

_It?_ Walking towards him with her arm outstretched, indicating for him to stay seated, she spoke. "Stay right there, Cristian, and tell me where they are."

He stopped moving and sighed, looking into her face. Not wanting to argue with her especially after what had just happened in his bathroom, he pointed to his dresser. "Top drawer. I think there's some blue ones on top."

She walked over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, finding blue pajama bottoms but no top. Pulling them out and holding them so he could see what she had, she asked, "These?"

"Yes. Thank you."

_Oh great. He doesn't sleep in a shirt, does he? That's it. I'm taking my shower and going straight to bed...Bed?_ "Is there a top?" Closing his dresser drawer, she walked over to him to hand him his pants. _I hope he has a sleeping bag for me because we are not sharing that bed._

"I don't like to sleep in one. It gets too hot."

_Turn your damn heat down and you wouldn't get hot! I need you to wear a shirt._ "Oh." Figuring she was doing a good job of not letting him in on how his semi-naked body turned her on as much as his completely naked one did, she turned to go back to the bathroom with her bag. "I'll hurry up so we can eat, okay?"

Watching her intensely as she walked her perfectly curved body back to the bathroom, he replied almost as an afterthought, "Okay."

Finished with their very late dinner, Layla took his styrofoam take-out container and hers downstairs and placed them in the refrigerator, both having decided not to eat all of their food considering how late it was. Returning upstairs, she climbed back onto his bed next to him so they could finish watching the rest of _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_ on DVD. Both of them never having gotten around to watching it when it was in theaters, Layla had found the shrink wrapped movie amongst Cristian's small collection so they decided to pop it into the player and watch while they ate. Aside from having to watch the sex scene with him, the night had been going well and it felt almost like it was a few months ago, where they could sit and watch a movie as the best of friends before all the sex, lust, drama, guilt, unease, big L-word, and a baby entered the picture.

When the credits began to roll at a little past 11:30, Cristian yawned and stretched as much as he could without causing himself too much pain and discomfort. Contagious as they always are, Layla yawned in response and spoke through it. "I guess it's time to go to bed. _Some_ of us have to go to work in the morning." She smirked at him as he turned to her and smiled--in his matching blue pajama top. The man could read her mind and it drove her nuts. She had had to pick her mouth up from the floor when she'd exited the bathroom after taking her shower and found that he had put his button-down pajama top on. He had never said a word about why he put the shirt on after telling her he liked to sleep without one and she for damn sure didn't ask.

Deciding to come right out with what she was wondering about earlier, she looked at him while scratching the back of her neck and yawning again. "I forgot to bring my sleeping bag. Do you have one?"

Preparing himself to get off of the bed and use the bathroom, he nodded. "I do." Groaning as he finally pushed himself off of the bed, he slowly walked to the bathroom, not saying another word as she waited for him to tell her where it was. Gracefully climbing off of his bed, she reached into her bag to grab her brush and scarf to wrap her hair while she waited for him to leave the bathroom. Just as she was finishing, Cristian walked out. Studying him closely, she saw him walk past the bed over to the small closet situated in the corner of the room. Opening the door, he leaned down inside and grabbed the sleeping bag. _Shit that hurt_. Coming back up slowly, trying to hide the pain the movement caused him, he forced a neutral expression on his face as he turned around to face her, not realizing she had already crossed the room and was taking the bag from his hands before he knew it. _She is too much._ "You take the bed, Layla. I'll sleep on the floor."

Already on her knees unrolling the sleeping bag, she looked up at him. "Cristian, you are not sleeping on the floor in your condition so don't even start with me."

"It's not the floor. It's a sleeping bag. And I don't want you sleeping on it. It's not very comfortable."

_Here we go again._ Deciding to ignore him, she rose from the floor, grabbed one of his pillows off his bed, plopped it down at the head of the sleeping bag, and crawled inside, ready to go to sleep after a mentally exhausting evening. "Goodnight, Cristian."

Damn, she could really work his nerves. He so did not feel right about this. "Layla." When he got no response he tried again, his voice sounding slightly perturbed. "Layla." _She thinks she's going to win this round, too._ Slowly walking over to the wall by the landing, he flipped the light switch and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before finding his way back to the sleeping bag.

Concerned that he might hit something on his way to his bed, Layla sat up and saw the outline of his frame. "Cristian?" He didn't say a word. Knowing he was ignoring her on purpose like she did him, she spoke again. "Cristian, be careful." Her eyes having adjusted to the dark, she saw him head towards her instead of his bed. "What are you doing?" She watched as he groaned heavily and sat down on the floor next to her, slowly reclining his body until he was lying on his back.

"I'm not sleeping in that bed while you're on the floor. Goodnight."

_That damn motherfu..._ His already traumatized body was going to seriously teach him a lesson in the morning when he woke up. A lesson she didn't want him to learn. Sleeping next to him on the floor would be no different from sleeping next to him in the bed. At least on the surface. _Right?_ "Okay, Cris. You win." Rising from the floor, she grabbed the pillow and set it back onto the bed. Walking back over to stand next to him, she continued. "I'll sleep in the bed. But so will you." Leaning down, she helped him into a seated position, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders to help him up from the floor. While he leaned on her small frame--he really was tired--she led him over to the side of the bed closest to his shelf. "Just don't try anything, buster."

"Hey, I'll keep my hands to myself if you do." Pulling the covers back, she helped him lower himself onto the bed, bringing the sheet and bedspread up to his chin, effectively tucking him in. As she turned to walk to the other side of the bed, she felt him grab her hand and turned back to him to see what he wanted. "Thank you...For everything."

Her mind taking a familiar place backseat to her heart, she couldn't help herself and leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips, his mouth opening to invite her further. Drawing back many seconds later, she spoke softly. "Goodnight." _I love you._

"Goodnight." _I love you, too._

"Layla! Guess what!" Blair came breezing into Layla's office two weeks later, a bottle of champagne and two flutes in her hands. Looking up from some fashion spreads, Layla smiled. Blair's excitement and exuberance were contagious.

"What?"

"Guess whose magazine _just_ passed _Taste_ in advertising dollars? Yes, Ms. Williamson, that would be us. The best damn fashion magazine east of the Mississippi." Setting the glasses on Layla's desk, Blair began pouring the champagne.

"Really?" _Craze_ and _Taste_ had been involved in a bitter competition going on six months now when Randy Walls came to Llanview, determined to upstage Blair and run her out of business. After having gotten her family back in order, Blair had become obsessed with _Taste_, getting Dorian in on the madness, and turning back into a cutthroat businesswoman whose fangs were sharpened to draw blood. Layla knew she was crazy but the things Dorian and Blair had been doing over a magazine (and trying to get her in on sometimes successfully) always left her shaking her head.

"Ye-es!" Finished pouring the champagne, Blair picked a glass up and offered it to Layla.

"Um, no thanks, Blair."

"What? Come on. It's the good stuff. Adriana's not here and I have to have _someone_ to celebrate with. Here."

Her brain automatically working to come up with an excuse besides "I'm pregnant," she shut it down. Everybody was going to find out anyway and she was tired. Tired of dreading the shocked, _You fucked your sister's man?_ looks from everybody. Tired of the guilt. Tired of the whole damn thing. The exhaustion suddenly written all over her face, she sighed and put her elbows on her desk, rubbing her face in her hands. "No alcohol for me, Blair." She sighed again, ready to get it over with. "I'm pregnant."

Her mouth opening in surprise, Blair set the glass down. "Really?" Her mind went to Vincent but she quickly wiped the frown off her face and smiled. Layla took her face out of her hands and rested her chin on them, watching every bit of Blair's reaction, too tired to even really care anymore. "Congratulations, Layla." Walking around Layla's desk to perch herself on the corner closest to Layla, she continued, curious about the _I don't give a fuck anymore_ expression on Layla's face. "You don't look happy. Vincent being a little bastard about it?"

Layla parked her head right back into her hands and spoke, her voice a monotone. "It's not Vincent's baby."

Wanting to cheer her friend up, Blair decided to tease her to lighten the mood. "What? Is it _Cristian's_?" She put a teasing emphasis on Cristian's name. "You two been doing a little something I don't know about?" The smile leaving her face, Blair waited...and waited...for Layla to tell her to knock it off. Instead, her friend sat there just as quiet as can be, her head still in her hands. "Layla? Come on, Hon, you know I'm just teasing. If you don't want to tell me whose baby it is, it's fine."

_Yeah right._ Pulling her head out of her hands to rest it on her interlocked fingers again, she spoke. "It is."

"It is what?"

"Cristian's."

Her jaw hitting the floor again, Blair closed it before Layla could see it. Expecting her to start the whole _What the hell? Are you serious? You're lying!_ routine, Layla's head jerked around to face Blair as she exclaimed instead, "Get out! When the hell did this happen? Why didn't you tell me? I _told_ you you two had the hots for each other!"

A smile forming on her face for the first time since sharing her news, Layla shook her head. _Why did I know she would say that?_

"So when's the wedding? You going to do it down in Puerto Rico? Well, you already _did it_ but you know what I mean..."

"Blair! Please! Just stop, okay?!" She sighed, completely exasperated and not in the mood to discuss weddings and Puerto Rico and that damn dream she had of a Puerto Rican wedding to a certain drop dead gorgeous Puerto Rican where she woke up wishing she had never heard the name Freud. "We slept together. Once." _Technically twice but she doesn't need to know that._ "I got pregnant. We're going to raise this baby. The end."

Folding her arms across her chest, Blair raised her eyebrow and said, "Uh-huh."

"Uh-huh what?"

Leaning towards Layla, Blair continued with her thoughts. "That man is single. Gorgeous. _Adores_ you. Treats women like the most precious jewels on Earth. And he gave you your first baby. Don't go giving me that 'We're just friends who happened to sleep with each other' shit, Layla. Who the hell wouldn't fall in love with him?"

Giving her some neck attitude action, Layla countered. "Uh. You!" Rolling her eyes upward in remembrance, she kept on with her rebuttal. "I seem to recall a certain someone sleeping with her _friend_ at a certain ski lodge. I wonder who that was..."

Sighing, Blair retorted, "That's what happens when you mix alcohol with being pissed off and heartbroken...Then there's Todd. I love the little bastard, what can I say?" Poking her finger into Layla's shoulder, she continued. "But you tell me you don't feel anything for that man. And don't give me any of that Evangeline crap either."

"She was in love with him, Blair. She's my sister. You don't get with your sister's ex. You just don't." _And acting like you've actually thought about this is telling Blair everything she needs to know, dumbass!_

"Oh please. Evangeline was not in love with him. A woman in love with a good-looking man like that who treats her like a queen does not screw him over for another man, period. Especially Todd. Todd and me, now, that's another story. But you and Cristian, come on, you're perfect for each other. I've been telling you that for ages." She winked at her increasingly exasperated friend. "Glad you finally listened."

Turning her attention back to the papers on her desk, Layla decided she'd had enough. "Bye, Blair. Unlike you, I have work to do."

Turning serious, Blair reached out to touch her friend on her arm, drawing her attention back to her. "Now, you know there's no love lost between me and Evangeline, but she's your sister. She loves you. You're probably the only one besides your parents she's ever really loved." Giving Blair her best _Don't get started on my sister or I might have to cut you_ look, Layla let her continue speaking as Blair raised her hands defensively in apology for going slightly off-topic. "Don't you think she would want you to be happy? I might not like her...understatement of the year...but even I don't think she would try to keep you from being happy. And if she couldn't treat Cristian the way he deserved to be treated, do you really think she would try to keep him from someone who could?"

_Why in the hell is she making so much sense? Blair who loves Todd "Sociopath" Manning of all people._

"Layla, you and Cristian are really the only true friends I have. I just want you to be happy. And if it's with each other, there isn't going to be a way around it. Fate and all that shit. God knows it must be the only reason I'm still with Todd." The words still sinking into her brain, Layla remained silent, so Blair continued to talk. "Besides, you're already having his baby. When that baby is born, it's a done deal. You two are going to be connected by that little bundle of joy for the rest of your lives _in spite of_ Evangeline. She's going to know that and she's going to have to accept it because"--she pointed to Layla's stomach--"that's her niece or nephew, you're her sister, and she loves you." Deciding to leave her friend to her thoughts, Blair patted her arm again and got off of her perch on Layla's desk, settling the bottle of champagne in the crook of her arm and holding the two full glasses in her hands, taking a long sip out of one of them. At the door, she gave her final parting words. "Don't waste time worrying over something you can't change, Layla. Trust me on that."

_'Don't waste time worrying over something you can't change, Layla.' 'You're already having his baby. When that baby is born, it's a done deal. You two are going to be connected by that little bundle of joy for the rest of your lives_ in spite of _Evangeline.'_

Blair's words had played over and over in her mind since that day at work. Sure, it was Blair, who had made so many mistakes in her life--and was still making them--that she was one of the last people whose advice should be taken, but she had made sense. A lot of sense. And she was right. Layla _did_ have sex with Cristian. Mind-blowing sex that went beyond the physical. The kind of sex you have with someone you love even if she didn't know it at the time. There was no taking that back. She _was_ having his baby. They _were_ going to be connected for the rest of their lives. And Evangeline was going to be an aunt to a baby that was ultimately the manifestation of feelings her sister had for her former boyfriend. Layla could run from them. Tell Cristian they would be parents to their child and nothing more. And, knowing Cristian, for her he would comply. They could drop their daughter off at each other's houses and never stay for too long for fear of witnessing her having a "first" moment that would make them melt, look into each other's eyes, and fall into each other's arms again. Layla sighed as her thoughts continued. Running would be impossible when her heart would palpitate whenever she was near him, when she would see him in their child and wish she could be with him, when the thought of seeing him around town with other women would make her burn with jealousy and be ready to cut a bitch because she knew in her heart she should be the one with him, making love to him before watching him fall asleep, waking up with him with the early morning sun casting its rays on his beautiful face.

After talking with Blair that Monday, she had decided to take a trip to Atlanta. _The_ trip. A trip she needed to take alone. She had taken Friday off for the flight there and Monday for the trip back home. She was ten weeks along in her pregnancy and her doctor's appointment marking that occasion was scheduled for the following Tuesday. Cristian had been heartbroken that he wasn't going to be able to make it to the doctor's appointment with her as he had to go to Chicago on art business the Sunday before her appointment--while she was in Atlanta--and wouldn't be back until Thursday. He had wanted to cancel the engagement so he could go with her to meet her obstetrician and ask as many questions as he could but Layla had insisted he go on his scheduled trip. There would be many other appointments he could go to and his trip had been planned and finalized prior to finding out he was going to be a father. After promising to give him every minute detail of the visit, she finally convinced him not to tick off his buyers by canceling an important trip at the last minute so he could go to an early check-up appointment with his..._baby mama? Knocked up by him friend? One-time sex, one-time almost sex pregnant partner?...Girlfriend?_

After he had gotten home from the hospital, Layla had spent four more nights in his apartment with him. She had cooked for him--meals he had absolutely loved that made her swear he had a tape worm in that sexy ass body--taken him to the doctor for his check-up, and helped him get reacquainted in his studio. By Day Four, he was beginning to get most of his strength back, probably from sheer willpower, and had spent the day working on a piece while Layla was at _Craze_. While she wasn't going to admit it to him, she had gotten comfortable staying in his space. Too comfortable. It felt like she belonged there, which was so wrong considering how much time her sister used to spend there, even though she and Cristian had never moved in together. Grasping desperately at straws while trying to alleviate some of the stress and guilt, she had wondered if their having never moved in with each other had been a sign. Berating herself for even entertaining that thought, she had quickly let it go and settled herself back into her usual pattern of yearning followed by guilt followed by more uncontrollable yearning and more guilt.

When he had told her to take all the time she needed to sort out her conflicted emotions, he had meant it. She had been staying with him but they had taken pains to keep things friends-appropriate. He had continued to always wear a shirt--Layla shook her head and smiled in remembrance of that one--she never walked around in a towel in front of him, he kept his addictive lips to himself, she had kept hers to herself, and he had stopped staring at her like he wanted to ravish her in the most raw yet gentle kind of way. To make things even less complicated, Layla had brought Adriana's blow-up air mattress--that she eventually convinced Cristian was just as comfortable as sleeping on a real mattress--to sleep on. Adriana, her best friend who was not convinced that just because she was taking an air mattress to sleep on she was going to use it and who was positive they were no longer just friends with one-time benefits but a hell of a lot more, had made her opinions known. While Layla never acknowledged her friend's assumptions, she knew she didn't have to. _That nosey heffa already knows._

Though Layla and Cristian had taken many precautions against any other intimate encounters, it hadn't done a damn thing but increase the tension, emotional and sexual. Ever since that first night she spent at his place, after their "naked on the toilet" conversation, their relationship had been in limbo. They weren't just friends. That damn ship had sailed way back on the first of September. They weren't friends with benefits. But they weren't "together" either. _Yep. Limbo. No more succumbing. But I can't run either._

She knew running wouldn't work because they couldn't co-parent over the phone. _And even if we could, just hearing his voice with that accent..._ Running wouldn't work because Llanview was the smallest town on earth and she wouldn't take his baby away from him. But running really wouldn't work because deep down, Layla didn't want to. As she sat at the window seat on her Delta flight to Atlanta, she prepared herself for what she had to do: Tell Evangeline she was having Cristian's baby. And she was falling in love with him. And pray that her sister would finally wake up and tell her that everything would be okay and to follow her heart just like she always told her to follow her dreams.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Here we are._ Layla stood outside of her sister's room at the long-term care facility their mother had chosen for her eldest child. She had tried not to worry incessantly about what she was going to do as it never accomplished anything and only prolonged the agony unnecessarily. Nevertheless, her palms were sweaty, her heart was racing, and her mouth was becoming bone dry as she prepared herself to enter Evangeline's room. During the car ride over and down the halls through the facility, Layla's mind turned against her resolve and conjured up a best case scenario and a worst case scenario. Though the best case scenario was clearly what she was hoping for and involved flowers and confetti and an awakened big sister thrilled about her niece, the worst case scenario was keeping her feet glued to the floor outside of Evangeline's room.

When she had thought about the situation she was in, _really_ thought about it, she knew in her heart her sister wouldn't disown her. One, she was her sister and, as the saying went, blood was thicker than water. Two, the man who somehow stole her heart over the last several weeks--or maybe it had happened that night in September, she didn't really know--had not ever hurt Evangeline. This wasn't a case of Layla getting involved with a trifling man who had done her sister wrong. No matter which way it was looked at, no matter what her issues were, her sister had betrayed _him_. Lastly, when Evangeline had fallen into her coma, neither Cristian nor she were anywhere near any kind of reconciliation nor a desire for one. Cristian was moving on with his life, focusing on his art, while Evangeline had decided she needed to be alone. Layla had not come between them. They were already over. And in spite of the stupidity of the whole ski lodge incident and the ensuing accusations, both Layla _and_ Evangeline knew there was never anything going on between Layla and Cristian while Evangeline was in a relationship with him. They had always been friends, initially _because_ of Evangeline, but nothing had ever been there. At least nothing either of them were conscious of. Layla also knew that something inexplicable had brought her and Cristian together that night and her sister could empathize with her, considering something (albeit extremely unhealthy) had drawn her to Todd Manning of all people and away from a good man with a good heart and a passionate soul.

Still, there was that worst case scenario. The one where her sister, her very best friend, would hear her words, feel betrayed, and decide never to come back and, just like in some television drama, that piercing sound from her heart monitor would signal a flat line and Layla would never, ever recover. While her sister had always encouraged her, always been the one person she could count on no matter what since their father died, always protected her and been willing to fight to the death if anyone hurt her, boyfriends and strangers alike, a small part of Layla still worried that this might be the one thing that would put a serious rift between them. After all, she had broken the cardinal rule. She could try to put a stop to her feelings for Cristian for her sister as she'd already thought about but there was their baby. The life that would carry with her her parents' bond. _No. No, she knows I love her. She knows this didn't happen because I wanted to hurt her. She KNOWS._

Opting not to tell her mother before she told her sister, Layla had not said a word about her intentions when she arrived at their mother's home the evening before. Assuming it was just a regular visit--and really it was--her mother didn't press about anything and Layla didn't offer anything either. She also had not told Cristian the main purpose of her visit, although she figured he knew anyway. She knew he would have offered to come with her so she had been happy that her trip coincided with his to Chicago so that he wouldn't. Even though he'd tried to cancel his trip anyway for her doctor's appointment, she really didn't want him along and was pleased when she'd talked him out of postponing his trip. She was falling in love with him, with everything about him--_God, I never would have imagined..._--but she needed to do this alone. Placing her left hand on her belly, she clarified. _Well, alone with you for support._

Thinking about her child, she knew she had to stop with the guilt. The stress. The anxiety. Though it took a minute to accept what she had done and what became of it, she was two-and-a-half months pregnant. Although it pained her to think about it and she tried exceptionally hard _not _to think about it, she knew miscarriages were prevalent during the first trimester and, although they were mostly spontaneous in nature, she didn't want to lose her baby and be burdened with the "what-ifs": _What if I had told Vange as soon as I found out and skipped the weeks of worry? What if I had forced myself not to feel so guilty to keep my--our--baby safe?_ Women lost their babies during pregnancy many times through no fault of their own but it still didn't stop them from thinking that it could have been attributed to something they'd done.

Shaking those thoughts from her mind, Layla realized she was probably looking like an idiot standing outside of her sister's room. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't know how many people passed her, probably wondering why she was standing outside of someone's room for 2800 hours. She had to do this. Had to get it done. For herself, her unborn child, her sister, and Cristian. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she whispered to herself, "Here we go," and pressed against the door, opening it and walking through.

She looked so peaceful. Her sister. Her big sister. It had been a few weeks since Layla had seen her--while Cristian was still in the hospital--but she looked the same. She was in another state, another city, but she was still unconscious, still in a coma, still paying for a crime perpetuated by hate-filled excuses for human beings. Her anger again rising to the surface, she quickly suppressed it and walked to her sister's bedside, leaning over to kiss her on her forehead. Sitting in a chair already beside the bed, Layla set her purse down and grabbed her sister's left hand. Swallowing, Layla began her trek towards peace of mind.

"Hey, Vange." She got no reply. _I cannot believe my sister's in a coma_. She felt her tears nearing the surface. She hadn't cried during a visit with her sister in months. The first several weeks she cried during every visit, tears wrought with hurt, denial, and anger at the bastards responsible. Then the crying episodes slowly waned as, sad as it was, she got used to seeing her sister lying in a hospital bed completely motionless, void of all animation and vitality. But, today, it hit her all over again, seeing her sister lying there, unable to respond and show her bright smile. Maybe it was her hormones. Maybe it was what she had to tell her. Whatever it was, she was trying her hardest to keep the moisture from falling from her eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't seen you in awhile. You know Mom. She wanted you close to her, back home." She chuckled softly as she continued to speak. "And you know how much planes make me nervous."

_Okay, girl. Tell her the real reason it took you two weeks to come visit after she'd been moved._ Rubbing her sister's hand before grasping it between both of hers and placing them under her chin, she decided to fill her sister in on the goings-on in Llanview, like she always tried to do when she visited. "Um...well, not much has been happening in _Dullview_." She smiled as she voiced their pet name for the Pennsylvania city they both migrated to. "_Craze_ is still doing well...Oh, yeah, guess what? Jamie participated in that charity fashion show for Angel Square I told you about. I swear she got the biggest applause. She was _so_ adorable..." Her voice trailed off and the tears made their presence known again. "I wish you could've seen it. Starr, Adriana, Blair, Talia, and I were all in it. Marcie and Tommy were, too. Antonio and Michael and Rex held it down for the men. They were pretty hilarious but they were good. It was really great. I know you would've loved to have been in it, too. I really missed you."

_Okay, Layla._ Taking her right hand and wiping the light moisture away from her eyes, she grasped Evangeline's hand again and took a deep breath before clearing her throat. "Ah, Cristian's doing a lot better. He's, uh, he's going to Chicago tomorrow actually. He's really doing well." She paused and watched her sister's face as if expecting her to show a reaction, any reaction, to any of the news she was sharing. "I don't know much about the art world he's in or anything but he's--he's really happy." Tearing her eyes from her sister's face, she looked down at their entwined fingers and sniffed. _Don't think about. Just say it. Just tell her._ "Vange...I have something to tell you and...it's really hard because I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to think about never coming back. I don't want you to think that I..." She swallowed again and shook her head, realizing she was getting ahead of herself.

Clearing her throat for a second time, Layla looked at her sister's face. She still looked at peace, like she was just sleeping, in spite of the monitoring equipment attached to her small frame. "Vange...Cristian and I, we're...we're having a baby." She held her breath and studied her sister, waiting for her to wake up and the confetti to start falling from unknown places. Or for the heart monitor to make that dreaded piercing, prolonged sound. When nothing happened, no movement from her sister, no confetti, and nothing but the beautiful continual, rhythmic beeping of the monitor, she continued to speak. "I've been so scared to tell you." She tried, she really tried to keep the tears at bay but they were determined to run free. As she watched her sister, even though she hadn't made a move or a sound, Layla suddenly began to feel more at ease as her admission tumbled from her lips. This was her sister she was talking to. The sister who held her hand and walked her to school when she was too afraid to walk past Mrs. Watson's scary ass house to get to her school building after Evangeline had graduated to junior high school. The sister who always brought home her favorite cookie--peanut butter and chocolate chip--every single time she worked at the neighborhood pastry shop while in high school. The sister who let her move in for as long as she needed when she arrived in Llanview. _This is my sister. My SISTER. My best friend. She knows how much I love her. We can handle this. All of us. We can all get through this._

"Vange, I know this is...a really, _really_ major shock but I swear I never thought this would happen. You know he was always just my friend...But that--that night when I found out about Vincent and Natalie, he--something happened with us. Something changed." Releasing her sister's hand, Layla rose from her chair and walked over to the window as her thoughts coagulated. Staring out the window for several seconds, she turned back to her sister and leaned against the window sill. "I really tried to ignore what I was feeling after it happened." She looked towards the ceiling. "But then I found out I was pregnant and...he was so wonderful about it. So happy." She released a short chuckle. "The day after I told him he went straight to the library and got a stack of baby books this big." She motioned with her hands the amount of literature she saw him with in front of his apartment. She then remained silent for several beats. "I know this is so weird, Vange." She turned around and faced the window again. "Especially since we thought you were pregnant that one time..."

If her sister had been awake, she would have said, "It wasn't meant to be." _'It wasn't meant to be because he was meant for you.'_

"Then when I saw him laying on the ground with all that blood..." She shook her head in remembrance. "...I knew it, Vange. I felt horrible about it but I knew. I knew he was the last person I should be feeling this way about but..." She walked back over to her sister's side and sat back down onto her chair and looked into the distance, her eyes recalling the moment she allowed herself to face what she knew. Her voice heavy and raw with pure emotion, she laid it all bare. "I'm falling in love with him." She looked into her sister's face as she continued her confession. "I can't believe it but..." she nodded her head to herself, "...I am." It was like a boulder had been lifted from her shoulders when she finished. She knew it was a cliche but that was exactly how she felt. Like the weight of the guilt that had been encumbering her spirit had finally broken free and released itself.

But her sister still hadn't moved. She still hadn't awakened. "I miss you so much. I really need you to wake up, okay? We all miss you. I think you've gotten enough rest now, so come back and yell at me or strangle me or hug me or something. Anything." She searched her sister's face for many moments, waiting for a miracle, the tears releasing themselves yet again in two rivulets down her face as the seconds ticked by and her prayers were not answered. As those many seconds stretched into minutes, Layla's fear of rejection by her sister was replaced with the fear that her child would never get to know her only aunt. Never get to be relentlessly spoiled and lavished with attention by her. Never get to play with any Williamson cousins nor go to her aunt to talk her mom and dad into letting her go to the popular kids' party while their parents were away.

Finally catching her breath as the crying reached its peak, she kissed her sister on the forehead again. "I love you, Vange." She sniffed and used the palms of her hands to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Don't ever forget that, okay? Don't ever forget that I love you and you are the best sister anybody could ever have." Reaching down to grab her purse, she found the packet of travel tissues and wiped her face and nose. Balling the used tissues up in her hand, she picked up her purse and placed it over her shoulder, standing up to get ready to leave. "I'll be back later, okay?" Reaching down, she grasped her sister's hand again, looked into her face one final time, and slowly left the room, never having felt so relieved and heartbroken before in her life.

"Hey, Lay. Check this out. This one looks good." Adriana showed her friend the print-out of a nice condo she'd found not too far from the _Craze_ offices. With Adriana getting engaged to Luis and Layla eventually needing a bigger place for her new addition, the roommates and best friends had decided to change their living arrangements. Adriana was going to move in with her fiance and Layla had opted to leave apartment living behind and upgrade to a condominium. For some reason she'd always seen herself searching for her first home and making that huge step with her husband. And she still felt that way. So, condos it was until she got..._married_. Layla left it alone and studied the print-out.

Since returning from Atlanta, she still felt twinges of guilt and unease, still missed her sister like crazy, but she was finally beginning to put most of her energy into the life growing inside of her. It had been just shy of a week since she'd told Evangeline but she had done all she could do. Her sister knew. Her mom knew. For now, she had to live her life and ask God everyday to bring her sister back to her. Her sister wouldn't want her to stop living. That much she knew for sure.

"Okay, girl, I'm on my way. Oh, hey, is Cris back yet?"

"He told me his flight was due in at 7:15 and that Terrence was going to pick him up from the airport." Layla glanced at her watch. "He should probably be home by now." She frowned. "He was supposed to call me when he made it."

Adriana smiled to herself. Damned if her best friend didn't have it bad for her cousin. She still couldn't believe it happened but that's how things went sometimes. She knew Layla and she knew Cristian and she was content with the knowledge that they would never knowingly hurt one another. They had both been through too much pain with selfish people to ever inflict anything of the sort onto each other. "I'm sure everything's fine. I'll see you tomorrow." Adriana grabbed her keys and headed towards the door. As she opened it, she jumped as her cousin was standing directly in front of her in his brown leather jacket, a large bag thrown over his shoulder, just getting ready to ring the doorbell. "Hey, Cris. We were just wondering where you were." She threw her arms around his neck in greeting.

"Hey." He returned his cousin's greeting. "I just got back." Walking past his cousin into the apartment, his eyes found Layla, sitting on the couch with a paper in her hands, looking just as beautiful as always. And it was true what they said about pregnancy glow. He had missed her. It had only been a week, but he had. Still speaking to Adriana but his eyes on Layla, he continued. "I dropped my bags off at the house and decided to come over."

Rising from the couch, Layla smiled softly as she studied him from head to foot, making sure he was back in one piece. Having enough of being virtually ignored, Adriana excused herself. "Well, I'm on my way out. Later, guys." Smiling, Adriana closed the door softly behind herself and headed off to spend some time with _her_ man.

Stepping towards Cristian, Layla didn't hesitate to pull him into her arms and hold him tight. He did the same. She didn't care that for the past few weeks they'd had a "hands-off" policy thing going. She threw it out the window and decided she needed to feel him close, smell his light cologne, feel the security his arms always provided. While relishing being in his embrace, Layla spoke first. "I thought you were going to call me when the plane landed." Releasing him, she stood back and waited for his response, hands on her hips.

"I was going to but I wanted to surprise you."

Walking back over to the couch to take her seat, Layla snorted and raised her eyebrow. "Surprise me? I know you, Cristian. You just couldn't wait to hear about my appointment and see the baby's first picture."

Dropping his bag onto the floor in front of the couch as he sat next to her, he smiled. "Okay, so I was a little anxious to see it." Turning his attention to the paper that had previously been in Layla's hand, he took off his jacket and laid it over the back of the couch. "What were you reading?"

Grabbing the paper off the coffee table, Layla showed it to him. "It's a condo. Over in the Hill district. Seems nice enough. I might look into it."

Reading over the paper, Cristian nodded as Layla spoke. Then he turned to her. "I was thinking about getting a house. My place is really too small for a family. I can always turn the basement into a studio or get some space somewhere else or something."

_Family?_ Even though he kept his face neutral, Layla knew what he was thinking. Because she was thinking the same thing. _You, me, and baby makes three._ "Well, that will probably be next for me...with a big backyard and a basketball court so I can show you how it's done."

Shifting his entire torso towards her this time, he pressed his fist into the sofa, bicep bulging--she could tell through his snug-fitting long-sleeved sweater--and leaned toward her, a devilish grin on his face. "You like to challenge me, don't you?"

Layla cocked her head to the side and looked at him. "Scared?"

"Not a bit." His stare was becoming penetrating and his deep voice dropped an octave. Clearly, he was forgetting their pact as well. "I told you. I'm always up for a challenge."

_I'll bet._ She wanted to push him down on the sofa right then and there and show him he might be a little too cocky when it came to what kind of challenges she could bring. But she didn't. "That's good, you know, because we have a serious one ahead of us now." She sighed as she thought about the responsibility she was going to be faced with.

Turning his torso so that he was facing forward again, Cristian leaned so that his elbows were resting on his knees and his hands rubbing together. Looking introspective, he offered, "It's definitely going to be a challenge but...I'm ready." He smiled to himself. "I've always wanted kids. Every time I see Jamie looking up at me with those beautiful, innocent eyes, I always wonder what it would be like. Being a father. Having someone come into your life, who, the moment you saw him or her, you'd be ready to give your life for without even thinking about it..."

Layla nodded. "Yeah...Sometimes I think about being someone's mother, you know, someone's _mother_, and it's so scary. I mean, she's going to depend on us for everything. And we can't fail her. No more being selfish. No more making decisions based on how they affect _you_ alone, starving if it means your baby can eat..."

Nodding, he turned his head in her direction and looked into her eyes from his position. "I wouldn't worry. You're going to be _una mama magnifica_." He figured he'd say something her French class-taking self could understand.

Grinning, she leaned over and nudged him. "Ha. I do know what that means...Gracias." She didn't bother rolling her _r_.

"Ah. Very good. You need to work on your _r_'s, though," he teased.

"Whatever...Anyway," she looked into his eyes. "So will you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I'll make a good mom, too? That's good to know, you know, because..."

She reached over and flicked him on his forehead. "I hate you."

Cristian chuckled, still hunched over, and winked. "No you don't."

She only smiled at him. Holding her eyes and seeing the exact opposite of hate reflected in them, he sensed they were about to enter dangerous, off-limits territory and sat up straight, deciding to shift the mood. "So, what'd the doctor say? What's her name again? Rosenbaum?"

Sitting up straight as well, Layla pulled her hair back off of her shoulders. "Oh. Yeah. Everything's fine. It's Doctor Rosenburg. She's really sweet. And patient. I feel pretty comfortable with her so far."

Cristian nodded, his features serious. "So, she's sure everything's okay? Did she give you any special instructions? Are we doing everything we're supposed to be doing? The books said--"

Layla laughed. "Yes! I promise. Everything's fine. She took my blood pressure and my temperature and--well, see for yourself." Layla rose from the couch and disappeared into her bedroom. She returned seconds later, a small envelope in her hand. Sitting down next to him again, she handed it to him. He looked at her, a nervous grin playing at the corners of his mouth. _He is so cute_. Smiling, she encouraged him. "Open it."

Slowly, he opened the envelope and removed the small picture. She watched his face as he got the first glimpse of his baby. It wasn't long before a huge grin spread across his handsome face. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. His baby. His _baby_. He began shaking his head in awe. "This is...Wow."

"Look. See the little arms and legs?"

Cristian squinted. "Yeah...Is that--is that the nose?"

"I don't know. Looks like it..."

"...or the lips?"

Layla frowned. _His artist's eye, I guess._ "I don't know..."

Immediately, Cristian's mind began racing with ideas about designing a collage. The artist and the father in him wanted to preserve the memories of his first child before it was born. "This is so amazing." Dammit. He was starting to feel choked up.

Layla felt the tears nearing the surface. _Hormones_. "I know. I still can't believe it sometimes."

The moment was heavy and their eyes met again. The love had never been more palpable than it was in that moment. Cristian wanted to reach out and touch her, feel her soft skin under his fingertips. She was giving him the best gift a man could ever receive. And it made him fall even deeper. Just this past summer, he was alone with only his work to keep him happy. And now? _Now I have her. And a baby on the way._ He couldn't believe his fortune. It made all the prior hurt, the pain, all of the loss, completely worth it. Instead of drawing her into his arms like he wanted, he carefully slipped the picture back into the envelope and set it on the table. His attention momentarily drawn away from her, he remembered his bag on the floor. "Oh. I got a few souvenirs for you while I was there." Setting the bag in his lap, he unzipped it and began to rifle through the contents.

Recognizing his move to lighten the mood, Layla inquired, "Did you get to visit the Art Institute? I remember you saying you wanted to go..."

Looking up from the bag, he answered, the enthusiasm written all over his face. "It was amazing. I'd been there before years ago--I was probably in high school--but there were so many new pieces. The photography exhibitions--especially the contemporary ones--were incredible."

Layla didn't know much about the art world--outside of fashion--but she nodded enthusiastically anyway. It wasn't her forte, nor was she all that interested, but he was so she would indulge him as long as it made him happy. "Great."

Pulling a small t-shirt out of the bag, he handed it to her. "It's not anything special but it was green and purple so I figured you'd like it." It was a simple shirt, with the tourist-y "I love Chicago" printed across it, but he was right. Chicago was one place she had never been, and her two favorite colors were emblazoned on it in a very Layla-like style, and it came from him, so she loved it.

"Thank you! It's cute. Kind of funky. Thanks for thinking about me."

"I never forget about you."

_I hate how much I love him._ Returning his eyes to his bag and away from hers that were beckoning him to show her just how much he thought about her, he pulled out a few more items. "Some key chains...Oh and I thought you might like this bandanna for when you go to the gym."

Yep. It was green and purple, too. After pulling out some nice pens and miniature replicas of paintings from the Art Institute of Chicago, Cristian smiled to himself and pulled out the cutest teddy bear. It was a good size and explained why his bag was so large. He handed it to her. "For you."

Okay. She had a weakness for teddy bears. It didn't matter how damn old she was, she liked those little suckers. Her mouth opening wide in surprise, she exclaimed, "Thank you! I love teddy bears. Just don't tell anybody. Vange and Adriana already know but we keep this amongst--" She paused as she saw him pull out a smaller teddy bear.

"I got this for the baby."

"Awwww...it's adorable." She looked closer and saw that something was written on it in Spanish. "Okay, I see 'Papi' and 'Chicago' but you're going to have to help me out with the rest of it."

"It says 'Daddy's pride and joy loves Chicago.'"

Feigning hurt, Layla joked while looking over his shoulder into his bag, "Well, where's the one from Mommy?"

Playfully snatching the bear back from her hands, Cristian chuckled, "They didn't have one."

"Sure they didn't." Yawning, Layla got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. "You want anything to drink?"

"Water's good. Thank you. Actually, I should be getting it for you." Rising from the couch, Cristian leaned against the kitchen counter.

"You knocked me up. You didn't incapacitate me." _Okay, so maybe I walked a little funny when you got finished but..._

Cristian only laughed, loving that her sense of humor was still intact in spite of everything. Handing him a glass of water, Layla studied his face. When he caught her staring at him questioningly, he met her eyes and with a confused look on his face, asked, "What?"

"I was just wondering when you were going to ask."

Leaning down on his elbows, Cristian continued. "Ask what?"

"About how my trip went."

Setting his glass on the counter while still leaning on it, he shrugged. "I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

Watching him for a second, she dove right into the heart of the matter. After all of the difficult things she'd had to say in the last several weeks--telling Adriana, Cristian, Cristian's mom, Blair, her sister, and her mom she was pregnant with a Vega baby that wasn't Antonio's--she was finally getting back into her usual straightforward, "tell it like it is" groove. That was one thing she didn't have in common with her sister. Evangeline was always methodical and loved to plan things. Order and everything in its place was her mantra. On the other hand, Layla too often spoke before she thought, did things on the spur of the moment, and liked to live in the moment. "I told Vange and my mom."

He stared into her eyes unyieldingly and said nothing as she continued, concern etched all over his face. Turning to set her glass in the sink, she pressed on. "I feel better. Finally. I couldn't...I just couldn't keep it from her anymore." Turning back to him while leaning against the sink, Layla's eyes looked past him. "She didn't wake up but...in her own way...she told me it was okay. That everything that happened...it was supposed to happen that way." She shook her head. "I don't know, it's hard to explain."

Cristian nodded. He understood what she was saying. It was just as he thought: only her sister would be able to make her feel better about their situation. Layla and Evangeline had the same strong connection that he had with Antonio, one that would transgress states of consciousness and, in his case, brainwashing.

"My mom...well...she had that frown written all over her face but," Layla squinted her eyes as she thought back, the expression on her face one of bewilderment. "She didn't get angry. It was weird. It was almost like...she had something she wanted to tell me but...she didn't. It was just weird. Like she..." Layla didn't continue.

"Like she what?"

Layla shrugged. "Nevermind. I don't really understand it either so I wouldn't be able to explain it to you anyway." Not being able to help herself, she yawned again.

An idea forming in his head, Cristian pursed his lips as he looked at her tired features. "You should probably be getting ready for bed."

She yawned again. "I don't know why I'm so sleepy already."

"You're resting for two, now. Here. Come here." Reaching for her hand across the counter, he led her over to the couch. "Sit down. I'll be right back for you."

"What are you doing?" she asked as he disappeared into her bathroom.

"Drawing you a bath."

"Cristian, you don't have to do that." She heard the water begin running at full blast. "Cristian?"

"I know." He exited the bathroom to see if she was still sitting. "Stay right there."

She sighed heavily. _I hate that man_. "Cristian..."

After another minute, she heard the water stop running and a couple minutes after that, he exited the bathroom again and strolled over to her, kneeling in front of her seated form. He began removing her slippers and her socks. "Cris..."

He looked up into her face. "Hey. Let me take care of you, okay?" It silenced her. Because she trusted him. Finished with his task, he rose and stretched both hands out to her, waiting for her to take them. She did and he released his left hand from her right and led her into the bathroom, the bathroom with a bathtub brimming with bubbles and four large candles lit in the small room. As she took in the ambiance, Cristian pressed play on the portable Sony CD player she and Adriana kept in the bathroom. It was ridiculously perfect that Sade's greatest hits began to fill the bathroom.

Turning back to Layla, Cristian kissed her on her cheek and softly said, "I'll see you later, okay?" He turned to leave, wanting to give her her privacy, and not wanting to assume too much since she'd finally told her sister and was feeling at least a little more comfortable with the situation. But, she stopped him as he turned off the light by the door. She stopped him with three words. Three very vulnerably spoken words. Three words spoken in a way that laid her soul bare.

"Stay with me."

He looked into her soft brown eyes for many seconds and then took one step towards her. Very softly, he asked, "Are you sure?" His question wasn't just about the bath. It was about everything. Showing what they felt. Showing that they wanted each other. Loved each other...Taking their relationship further. Out of the limbo. Being together. Leaving the uncertainty behind. Acknowledging. Accepting...And succumbing.

She walked towards him and reached around him to shut the door. Nodding, she looked up into his warm eyes. "I'm sure." Pulling at the hem of his sweater, she helped him slowly lift it above his head. "Your Love Is King" slowly faded out and the disc continued on into the faster paced "Hang On to Your Love." Not taking her eyes from his, she lifted her shirt and pulled it off, slipping out of her bra next as he watched. Moving closer to her, he unbuttoned her slacks and slid them off her hips. They quickly fell to the floor. Her panties went next. Running her hands down his chest--the bandages were gone but the scars remained--she continued to stare into his eyes as she unbuttoned his jeans, carefully slid down his zipper that was protruding with his awakened member, and slid them down. Then, his underwear joined them. While she worked on his pants and underwear, he slid his shoes and socks off and stepped out of the mass of clothing, right up against her body.

Standing on the tips of her toes, she placed her hands on his shoulders, closed her eyes, and flicked her tongue over his lips before biting his lower one. Releasing his lip, she took his hand, led him over to the tub, and stepped in. The water temperature was perfect as "Smooth Operator" began playing. He stepped in after her. As he faced her, she pushed against his chest slightly, indicating for him to sit down at the end of the tub opposite the faucet. Seated, he looked up at her as she lowered herself onto her knees and slid between his thighs. He moaned as she placed her hands on his chest to brace herself while she kissed him softly all over his face, nibbled on his ear, sucked on his neck, and then bruised his lips and tongue with a sensual assault that left him gasping for air.

She was stripping him of all coherence but he knew this wasn't the way it was supposed to go. He had wanted to take care of _her_. Please _her_. Shifting forward while she again worked on the spot just behind his ear, she pushed him back and pressed her index finger against his lips as he started to protest. "Let me take care of you." "Jezebel" then began playing as she robbed him of his breath again and lowered herself onto him, his moans against Sade's soft vocals reverberating around the room as she tormented and teased him. Challenged him. Like she had always intended to do. Soon her moans joined his as they continued to make love inside and outside of the tub throughout the night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Cristian grunted as he awakened and slowly opened his eyes. It took him a minute to recognize his surroundings; he hadn't slept in his own bed in a week. He turned towards the nightstand to see what time it was. _7:33. Shit. Four hours?_. He was wiped out. Beyond exhausted. He felt jet-lagged but he'd only crossed one time zone during his short flight yesterday. And as he shifted in the bed, his abdomen felt sore. Perhaps his body hadn't quite been ready for his recent activities just yet. It had been a month since his hospitalization, but he reasoned that not even a completely healthy man could have gotten through last night and early this morning totally unscathed. Layla had been...hungry. Was it the peace of mind she'd been granted after visiting her sister? Was it the pregnancy hormones? He'd read it was definitely possible but...Damn. In his thirty-one years, he had _never_ had a lovemaking experience like it. He felt as if he'd been sated enough for an entire lifetime. She had taken him to heights he didn't know existed. And he was an artist--his imagination was pretty much limitless.

His practice in the bedroom had always mirrored that outside of it. He gave and he gave some more. He didn't really think about it; it was just the way he was. The way he lived. Men were supposed to treat women like the queens they were. He believed that wholeheartedly and steadfastly. And he always would. Layla--she was opening his eyes to so many things. Everything about her challenged him. Opened him up. Taught him. And last night she showed him how to take what the woman he loved was giving him. They fit together like a hand in a glove spiritually, mentally, and physically. And because of the latter, he'd only gotten four hours of sleep when he needed to meet with Lindsay on business regarding his trip at 9 o'clock. He sighed as he continued his journey towards alertness, grateful that, at least, he didn't have that dream again.

Trying to get the cobwebs out of his mind, Cristian turned his head and found Layla a foot away, lying on her stomach. _How'd she get way over there?_ He could've sworn she'd collapsed on top of him and fallen asleep. At least that was the last thing he remembered after glancing at the clock and seeing it was after 3:30 in the morning. Not only had she drifted away from him in her sleep, she'd taken most of the covers, too. He had the sheet covering him but the blanket and comforter were keeping his two loves warm and pretty much leaving him on his own. Fairly alert now, he remembered Layla worked from 8 to 5. It was already past 7:30. _Damn, did we both sleep through the alarm?_ Rising onto his left elbow, he used his right hand to rub her back underneath the covers. "Layla? Layla, come on, wake up." He continued to rub her smooth, warm skin. "I think you're late for work, _cariña_."

"Mmmmmm," she groaned.

Cristian was pretty good at translating groans and that one said, "Leave me the hell alone." Chuckling, he continued circling her back, his hand traveling further south. "It's past 7:30, Layla."

"Mmmmmm?" _Is it really?_

"Yeah." He caressed her firm behind before moving his hand back up her back. "I think it's time to get up, sleepy head." He removed his hand from underneath the covers and pulled them down slightly to reveal her shoulders. Leaning down, he placed a series of kisses on her left shoulder before moving her hair from her neck so he could pepper that region with kisses, too.

"Mmmmm...Ermmmmm!" _Fuuuuuuuuuuck! I don't want to get up yet!_ Still lying on her stomach, she turned her head in his direction as he resumed rubbing her back, that _I just woke up and I'm not happy about it_ look on her face. Morning person she was not. And neither was he really. Probably the non-conformist artist in him. They had about seven more months to give that up. "I'm too tired..." She grunted again. "I'm just gonna be late." She turned her head back into the pillow.

Tired was an understatement. Her body was spent. She would probably just stay home from work today to recuperate. It was Friday and she had a light day ahead of her anyway. She had been insatiable last night. Was it her hormones? Whatever it was, it and Cristian Vega were a lethal combination. They had made love in the tub where she succeeded in making _him_ call out _her_ name for once. Along with some Spanish she didn't really know but had a good idea of its English equivalent. After they'd recuperated, they let the water out of the tub and took a shower where she did her best to do only what showers were intended for: cleanse, not sex your chiseled, glistening wet and naked man up. Slipping into her robe that was hanging in the bathroom afterwards so she could walk to her bedroom to get her pajamas and underwear without catching a chill, she didn't quite make it. Cristian had come up behind her and rubbed her shoulders as she looked at her jacked up, didn't-wear-a-shower cap-so-washed-it-in-the-shower hair in the mirror. Then he'd told her in the most sincere way imaginable that she was so damn beautiful it hurt him to look at her. Then she took her robe off and jumped his too-sweet-for-his-own-good bones.

Hungry afterwards, Cristian wrapped himself in a lavender towel--he didn't care--and prepared a snack for them while Layla finished with her hair, blowing it dry instead of sitting underneath the hair dryer like she usually did, so she could hurry back to him. They ate. They watched back-to-back "I Love Lucy" episodes ("What did Ricky just say?...Oh! I've always wanted to know what he was saying...Leave me alone. I thought French would be fun for whenever I made it to Paris."), then they got back to work learning every inch of each other's bodies in her bedroom after she'd told him she meant what she said earlier about wanting him to stay. So, he stayed. And they kept busy in her bed for hours with talk and cuddle breaks in between. Talks about Chicago, _Craze_, Blair and Dorian and their crazy ass charades, movies, their memories of their fathers, even Evangeline. It had been a long time but they were finally able to talk about absolutely anything again, like they used to. Then around 3:30 in the morning, they went one more round before their bodies had finally had enough. Too much of a good thing could wear two people out like no other. They both knew that from experience by that point and had fallen asleep almost instantly.

As she reluctantly turned over onto her back, Cristian's back rubbing turned into belly rubbing. "Ermmm." _I'm not gonna make it._ "I don't think I'm going. I could sleep all day."

Cristian began to softly stroke her tender breasts. "I have to meet with Lindsay at nine." He twisted back around to see what the clock displayed. He really needed a shower. He was sure he smelled like sweat and sex and didn't want to drive home in that state even if he had to wear the same clothes he'd flown in the day before after his shower. "Is it alright if I use your shower really quick? I can stop home and change and still get to the gallery on time."

_He really needs to ask after everything we just did???_ Finally opening her eyes--barely--she squinted and looked into his face. Lifting her right hand, she caressed his cheek as he looked into her eyes. "You don't have to ask." _My goodness. Even with sleep all in his face, he still looks good enough to eat._ If she could have found the strength, she would have lifted herself up and gave him a good morning kiss. The way he was looking at her, it made her toes curl. But this wasn't TV. In real life, chicks woke up with morning breath and didn't do things like that before meeting with Mr. Toothbrush and/or Mrs. Mouthwash first. "You better get going or you're going to be later than I am." Ceasing with stroking her stomach and breasts, Cristian kissed her forehead and rolled himself out of the bed, an involuntary groan escaping his lips as he realized he was sorer than he thought. "Hey. Only old people sound like that when they're getting out of bed."

"And you know this how?"

Ignoring his retort, Layla rubbed her eyes and asked, "Are you sore?" suddenly concerned about his still healing injuries.

Walking naked out of her room heading towards the bathroom, he answered, "A little." Pausing at the entrance, he turned towards her and winked. "But it was all worth it." Then he disappeared out of sight and Layla turned over in the bed and fell asleep.

Cristian took a quick shower and put his clothes on from the day before, swishing some mouthwash around in his mouth in lieu of brushing his teeth since he didn't have his toothbrush. Exiting the bathroom, he peeked into Layla's room and saw she was asleep. Shaking his head and smiling, he knew she wasn't going to make it to work today. He wanted to join her and go back to sleep but he wouldn't. He was serious about every aspect of his career. He had waited too long to get it back on track and he now had a baby on the way he would soon have to support. Layla on the other hand had the strenuous job of nurturing their baby and bringing it into the world and he knew, in spite of what they were doing last night, her pregnancy was draining her energy, so she had every right to catch some extra shut-eye if she needed it. Closing the door so she wouldn't be disturbed by the noise in the kitchen, he'd decided to make her a quick breakfast before he took off. He figured if he left a quarter after eight, he could be at his apartment at half past and on his way to the gallery ten minutes after that, giving him a good twenty minutes to make the ten minute trip to Lindsay's office.

He was scrambling some eggs when he saw Layla leave her room and enter the bathroom in her robe without saying a word. Quickly, he poured her a glass of orange juice. He was going to leave her meal in the oven on the warm setting for whenever she got up but, since she was already up, he grabbed a plate out of the cupboard and placed the eggs, sausage links, hash browns, and english muffin on it and set it on the nook in front of a stool. It was ten after eight. He was making good time. Soon, Layla exited the bathroom, awake but not her usual bright self. "Cristian...that smells good. You're going to spoil me." She slowly walked to his side and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against shoulder. She was so drained. She could have fallen asleep standing up, right in his arms.

He rubbed her back in their embrace, loving the feel of her small frame against his. "I think _you're_ spoiling _me_."

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "No, I'm not. You're just not used to someone doing something for you, taking care of you." She remembered the headache he gave her when he was in the hospital and after his release. He shook his head about to protest but she stopped him with a press of her index finger to his lips. "It's okay. I'm not finished working with you yet." And with that, she moved out of his space and began to find her way over to the meal he'd prepared for her.

More or less speechless and a bit nonplussed about how well she knew him, Cristian glanced at his watch and saw that he had to be going.

"Oh, could you hand me a fork, please?" Cristian walked over to the drawer where he remembered he'd seen the silverware. Handing it to her, she thanked him.

After studying her for a moment, he replied, "You're welcome. I better get going. I'll call you later, okay? Take it easy."

Heading towards the door, picking up his bag of souvenirs for the rest of his family on the way, he heard Layla reply, "Have fun," and then realized he hadn't kissed her goodbye. He stopped, turned around, and saw her turn towards him on her stool, sensing his abrupt stop. Strolling over to her, he placed both hands on her face, looked into her eyes, and slowly lowered his mouth onto hers, immediately parting her lips. All too soon, he broke away, feeling his nether regions reawaken and knowing that if they continued, it could lead to something neither of them needed to do again so soon after overdosing on it only hours before.

_W-what's my name again..._ As she regained her composure, she barely heard Cristian say, "I'll see you later." And she barely felt him touch her belly and say, "You, too." And she barely registered his leaving after telling her to make sure to lock the door.

Finished stretching, Layla headed over to the exercise bike. It was Saturday morning in the middle of an unseasonably warm December and she and Cristian had headed to the gym together as was becoming their Saturday morning custom. During the week, their schedules didn't allow for them to work out together and being able to do it once a week with each other was enough. Fourteen weeks along in her pregnancy, Layla was beginning to develop a small baby bump that Cristian found absolutely mesmerizing. After seeing the first glimpse of their baby a month ago, the idea of impending fatherhood was becoming more real to him, and seeing her belly grow was only adding to his excitement.

Bench pressing, Cristian continued their conversation, his voice straining as the number of repetitions increased. "So what do you think?"

"_I think_ we don't have to start this early." She laughed.

"Why not? It'll probably make it...easier later on. People do it with music."

Layla shook her head. Cristian wanted his son or daughter to be fluent in Spanish. _So they can talk about mommy behind her back._ And everyone knew it was easier for children to learn when they were young. But he was ready to strap headphones playing Spanish conversations to her uterus when she wasn't even halfway through her pregnancy yet. Like she wanted her kid to come out confused, wondering why she couldn't understand her own mama. Okay, so she wanted her child to know her father's native language, too, but did they really need to go there with the headphones now?

"How about this? How about we make a deal. Let's wait until--"

Layla happened to glance up and her words stuck in her throat as she stopped her cycling. _Oh good Lord. Vincent Jones. Without his sidekick._ Their eyes met briefly before Vincent wandered over to the treadmill to drop his bag. After dropping it, he stood back up and looked in Layla's direction again, a strange expression on his face. Kind of a salty look. _Jealousy?_

"Wait until what?" Cristian quickly turned his head in her direction while his arms were outstretched, not enough to meet her eyes, wondering why she'd abruptly stopped speaking. _Five more reps_, he thought.

Vincent's eyes turned onto Cristian briefly, finally noticing his presence. Then, they went back to Layla's.

Wiping the attitude off of her face that automatically crept to it when she saw him, Layla immediately wondered how much Vincent knew. Surprisingly, she hadn't seen him since before she found out she was pregnant. Did he know? _It's Smallview. Of course he knows._

Now seriously wondering why Layla was ignoring him, Cristian stopped two reps shy of the five he planned and placed the barbell back in its holder.

_Don't come over here, Vincent...Shit. Here he comes._

Slowly sitting up, Cristian turned to face Layla and followed her eyes until they landed on Vincent Jones, heading in her direction. Immediately, Cristian's eyes darkened as he trained them on Vincent as he walked right by him without a glance. _I could've sworn I told that son of a bitch not to go anywhere near her again. I know I did._ Regardless, he knew Layla was a grown woman who could take care of herself and would not appreciate his interfering, no matter how much he wanted to knock Jones' block off for daring to bother her after what he did to her.

Layla glanced over at Cristian sitting on the bench, looking pissed as all hell, eyes shooting daggers through Vincent, grateful that he was staying put. Sometimes the "caveman" in him was a turn on and would be quite helpful if ever she was in a shady part of town at night with him, but sometimes it could be a bit off-putting. Now would have been one of those times.

Nodding his head in greeting, Vincent spoke. "Layla."

_Play it cool. And smile. You're much better off without his ass. Let him know it._ "Vincent."

"You're looking well...Glowing." The last part he said with emphasis, a slight bitterness detected in his voice and his facial expression.

_Oh, he knows_. "Thank you." This she said with a tight smile on her face. She saw Cristian shift in her peripheral vision. When she looked at him directly very briefly, she saw that he'd only shifted forward, resting his hands on his thighs, elbows out, eyes still on Vincent.

Vincent's eyes had followed Layla's and he finally decided to acknowledge Vega's presence. Facing Cristian, Vincent continued. "I just thought I'd congratulate you two on the...new addition." When Cristian said nothing, did nothing, Vincent turned his attention back to Layla. Sighing, clearly annoyed at Cristian's presence because of what he was about to say, he squinted his eyes and furrowed his brow. _He always does that when he's trying to be sincere._ "Layla...I know you don't want to hear this and you probably don't believe me, but I just want you to know I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you." He sighed again in Cristian's general direction before fixing his eyes on Layla. "I care about you. I always will."

Layla's eyes shifted downward as Vincent spoke. It was like deja vu. She'd heard it all before. By now, she was pretty much immune. She sighed. She wasn't bitter. She wasn't even angry. There was really nothing to be angry about. Vincent simply no longer elicited any strong emotions from her anymore. After she smashed the glass vase against the wall in the BE office she'd found him in, they'd no longer crossed paths. He didn't look her up, probably too embarrassed and afraid of her wrath to do so. And she didn't go looking for him to key his car or trash his penthouse either. At the time, it wasn't like she didn't want to. She wanted to, but her own actions that same night had preoccupied her thoughts. She had been too angry at herself for sleeping with Cristian than at Vincent Jones and his lust for the redhead. Somehow, the shame of sleeping with one's comatose sister's ex kind of trumped being cheated on, and Vincent's priority on her list of concerns fell to the very bottom. Things like ending world hunger and curing AIDS were more important than Vincent Jones.

Had she loved him? In a way, she guessed she had. Before she learned he'd set Cristian up, Vincent had always made her feel so special. He had been good to her. Yeah, he'd been lying to her about his intentions with Cristian while smiling in her face but, she had had a lot of fun and thoroughly enjoyed his company. And honestly, she was still grateful for the shoulder he provided when she'd lost Evangeline to the coma. He had seriously been a huge help to her and she would never forget it. And, because of the way God rolled, if he hadn't done what he did with Cristian's ex-wife, if she hadn't gone through what she went through, she wouldn't be where she was today. Genuinely happy, at peace, pregnant with her first child, and quite frankly the luckiest woman on earth to have Cristian Vega in her life as her best friend, her lover, and the father of her baby.

Layla looked back up into his eyes. "It's okay, Vincent. You may not believe me but I forgive you. You really hurt me that night but...it was bound to happen. I guess I saw it coming."

Cristian quietly rose from the bench and headed off to do some bicep curls. Clearly, Layla and Vincent needed to talk and it was none of his business.

Vincent shook his head, "Layla--"

"Vincent. Look. I cared about you, too. A lot. I still do. Things happen for a reason. I'm where I'm supposed to be. You're where you're supposed to be." _Is he even with Natalie?_ "I'm not about living in the past anymore, stressing over shit that doesn't matter anymore." She started peddling on the bike again, finished with what she had to say. Only, Vincent wasn't.

"So you're happy?"

She stopped and looked at him. "Well, we're still stuck in some stupid, pointless war in Iraq and too many kids are starving and my sister's been in a coma for seven months and I miss her like crazy but, other than that, yes." She looked him dead in his eyes and softened her tone. "I'm happy." She looked down and snorted softly. "In a way, it's because of you." Vincent nodded solemnly and looked down. Looking back at him she asked, "What about you?"

Vincent shrugged. She was happy. She had a decent man in her life and was starting a family with him, even though he thought it was a little shady that the man was her sister's ex. He, on the other hand, had all the money in the world and nobody to share it with anymore. Natalie and him...They were on some strange roller coaster that was difficult to stay on but hard to get off. Nevertheless, he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm happy."

_Lying._ "Good. I'm happy for you." And she resumed her cycling. "Take care, okay?"

"Yeah. You, too." He pointed at her stomach. "Good luck, huh?"

She smiled a genuine smile for the first time. "Thanks." She watched as Vincent nodded again and walked back over to his bag, suddenly not in the mood to exercise anymore but not wanting to look like a punk by leaving right away. So, he started up his iPod and got on the treadmill.

Layla looked around the gym for Cristian and spotted him working with some dumbbells. He truly had no idea what a work of art he was. Forget the art he could create. She could watch him do bicep curls all damn day. For real. But he was, unfortunately, finished and she watched as he sat on the bench to do leg extensions. Her stomach growling for some breakfast something fierce, she remained on the bike for another ten minutes or so and hopped off to see if she could cajole Cristian into quitting early so she could eat. When he saw her approach, he swung his legs from around the weights and looked up at her as she walked into his space, waiting for him to wrap his arms around her. She didn't wait long.

"Are you okay?"

Rubbing his shoulders and back from her position within his arms, she stated simply, "Yes...But I'm hungry. I think we got enough in for today, don't you?"

Cristian rose from the bench, arms still encircling her. He chuckled. "We just got here."

Layla sighed and slipped out of his grasp, feigning acquiescence. "Fine, if you want me to starve and pass out from--"

Cristian reached out with his left hand and gently grabbed her around her waist, drawing her back into his space. "Okay."

She smiled her best smile into his face. "IHOP?"

He frowned. "We always have IHOP. What is it about that place? You can get French Toast anywhere, _querida_."

She sighed softly. "I don't care where we go as long as we _eat_."

Cristian smiled at his small victory. His voice deepening and laced with a playful energy, he added, "Last one out of the showers buys."

"Don't forget your wallet, then." She withdrew from his arms with a kiss on his cheek and headed to the showers, forgetting about Vincent's presence. His earlier presence. Because he was no longer there.

There was a soft knock on Layla's office door. Frowning slightly, she wondered who it was. If it was anybody she worked with, usually they knocked and came right in. This person, however, knocked and waited for an invitation. She hadn't been expecting anyone and it was almost lunchtime. And a sista was hungry. "Come in." The door opened and an extremely handsome man popped in. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here," he stopped talking as he walked over behind her desk and held out his hand. After she took it and rose from her chair, he continued. "To take you to lunch."

_Is his timing great or what?_ "How did you know I was sitting here starving and about to take off in exactly 10 seconds to get some food? Whoa--wait. Let me get my purse." She pulled him to a halt as he tried to lead her out of her office.

"You won't need it." He got her moving again and continued to lead her into the hall.

"Where are we going?" She was officially embarrassed as she saw Blair, Adriana, Suzanne, Monica, and Keisha huddled in a half-circle, smiling at her with the goofiest grins on every last one of their faces. Cristian leaned down and picked up a basket and continued to lead her to the elevators. "Cristian, I hate surprises. You know this..."

He pressed the down button by the elevator and it opened instantly. After they both stepped in, Cristian explained what she was pretty much beginning to figure out after she looked at the basket. "I packed us a lunch. The weather's so nice I thought we could eat in the park across the street."

_He is so sweet_. She was feeling another urge to jump his sweet bones. But that wasn't the place. And a sista was hungry. As they walked outside, Layla appreciated the gesture even more. The sky was a little cloudy but it felt incredible outside for the middle of December. _Vange loved when the weather was like this._ Finding a perfect spot on the grass, Cristian released Layla's hand and reached into the basket to pull out a blanket and set it on the grass. Settling herself on the blanket while Cristian pulled out the food, she pulled off her heels and relaxed.

The meal was going perfectly. He had brought nearly all of her favorite foods. Had even gotten IHOP French Toast take-out to top it all off. "Okay, Cristian. You really planned this out didn't you?" She squinted her eyes and looked at him with a curious expression on her face. "What are you up to?" she finished, popping a deviled egg into her mouth. She watched as Cristian smiled to himself and looked down as he leaned on his elbow on the blanket, eating his food.

"Okay, well--" Suddenly, both of them jumped slightly and looked up as huge raindrops began to fall, catching them completely off guard. "Shit!" The rain started coming down fast and furious.

"I didn't know it was going to rain!" Layla immediately scrambled to help Cristian pile their food into the basket. _My hair! Dammit!!!_ They both laughed as they tried to gather up their belongings without knocking each other over as quickly as possible. It was a serious torrential downpour that came out of nowhere. Well, perhaps if they hadn't been so wrapped up in their lunch and each other they might have noticed the clouds quickly darkening and the wind picking up. Layla grabbed her shoes last and ran to the sheltered bus stop with them in her hand. _Damn taking the time to put them on. My hair's getting wet!_ Right behind her, Cristian dropped the hastily thrown together basket on the bench and turned to wrap his arms around her as she started shivering. "I don't believe this!" She laughed through her shivers. "It was such a nice day! What the hell happened?!"

Cristian chuckled along with her. "I know. I don't know why I didn't check the weather this morning." _Damn,_ he thought. _Things were going perfectly, too..._

"Probably wouldn't have made a difference. They're always wrong anyway." Layla kept her arms wrapped around him as they waited for the rain to stop and closed her eyes, feeling as safe and secure as she always did when she was in his arms. She figured it would probably stop soon, just as quickly as it had started. Then the sun would shine and warm everything back up as if not a drop had fallen from the sky.

Cristian sighed as he held her close, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and back, instinctively trying to warm her up. "Is your hair still up there?" He laughed as she pulled out of his grasp and playfully hit him in the chest, knowing he was reading her mind.

_Somebody got jokes._ "Don't get hurt." Then, she settled herself back into his arms, feeling his chest vibrate with his laughter.

"I'm just kidding." That was one thing he'd learned during his last relationship: black women didn't play when it came to their hair. Sighing deeply again, Cristian's voice suddenly became serious as they stood together waiting out the rain. "This isn't exactly the way our lunch was supposed to go."

Her face still to his shoulder and her eyes still closed, Layla spoke. "How was it supposed to go?" She was curious. Very curious. So she asked.

Cristian sighed again. There were some things he wanted to tell her. Needed to tell her. And he'd thought the beautiful weather they were recently enjoying was presenting him with the perfect opportunity to do so. The artist in him always appreciated scenery and ambiance for certain occasions. As he thought about it, maybe it was still perfect. They were together, huddled up in each other's arms, trying to keep dry and stay warm as mother nature replenished the earth. He had always loved it when it rained, ever since he was a child. There was something about it that relaxed him, set him at ease. Today was no different and the words came easily. "Well, first, I was going to surprise you with a picnic lunch in the park with your favorite foods in the nice, _dry_ weather..."

"Mmm-hmmm..."

"Then we were going to talk about a little of everything until we finished eating..."

"Mmm-hmmm..." A chill caught her and she shivered, feeling Cristian's arms wrap around her even tighter.

Cristian paused for several seconds before he spoke again, his chin still resting on the top of her head, collecting his thoughts as he began to verbalize just how much she meant to him. He hoped he could find the right words. She deserved nothing less and he didn't want there to be any room in her mind for doubt about how much he loved her, wanted her, and needed her. "Then, I was going to look into your eyes..."

Layla opened her eyes but kept her head against his chest. She didn't make a sound and waited for him to continue as her heartbeat quickened.

His voice softening as the rain continued to pour, he pressed on. "And I was going to thank you for coming into my life...For lighting up my world with your smile...and your energy and your heart...For your spirit and the way you always keep me on my toes...The way you give so much of yourself and never expect anything in return...The way you constantly make me laugh...The way you always humor me about my paintings when I know it puts you to sleep..."

Layla giggled softly and swallowed as she listened, trying to choke back the sob threatening to escape. Trying and failing miserably. She always thought of herself as having a normal, healthy self-esteem, but hearing what Cristian thought about her, felt about her, sent her heart soaring and her tears falling. And she hated it. She hated the way he made her feel--like she needed him like she needed oxygen. Like she was dependent upon him for her livelihood. Her life. Nobody had ever held that kind of power over her. She was too damn independent for it. She was woman. Hear her roar. _What is he doing to me?_

The rain had stopped but neither of them had noticed.

Pulling her head from his chest and wiping the tears from her face, she looked into his eyes. Swallowing again, she cleared her throat and tried to put on her most neutral face. "And then what?"

He stared back intensely, several seconds passing before he uttered another word. Finally, "And then...I would've told you '_Te amo_' because I know how much you hate it when I speak Spanish." He smiled brightly and then quickly continued. "And then you would've told me to speak English and then..." Cristian's expression became serious again and he looked deeply into eyes, making her feel completely naked under the intensity of his gaze. "Then, I would've told you I love you...as my best friend...and my lover...and the mother of my child."

_Okay, I'm not even going to try to stop them now._ She let her tears flow freely down her cheeks as she refused to take her eyes from his. Finding her voice, strained with the weight of her emotions, she implored him, "And you know what I would've done next?" She swallowed and her voice broke completely. "I would've asked you why you are so damn sweet...And that it was so hard for me to admit it to myself because I was scared and ashamed, but...I would've told you I love you, too."

The sun was shining brightly, as if it had never rained.

Without another word, they melted into each other's arms and stayed that way for several minutes, still damp, still heavy with emotion, still unaware of the re-emergence of activity happening around them at the rain's cessation.

Then, Layla heard Cristian's voice break through the stillness. "Don't ever leave me, okay?"

Her heart broke into a million pieces when she heard the vulnerability, the pain, the hidden emotion with which he spoke. He had been hurt too many times. Without even thinking about it, she didn't hesitate to reassure him and lifted her head so he could see the promise in her eyes. "I won't." She shook her head and repeated. "I won't." His eyes registering a relief so profound her heart broke again, she couldn't look into them anymore and rested her head against his chest again. Sniffing, she continued, her voice trembling. "You can't leave me either, okay?" The image of him lying motionless on the cold concrete with blood covering every inch of his body invaded her thoughts. "I don't think I would make it very far without you." This much she knew. She hated it, but she knew.

Cristian's thoughts drifted to the dreams that had been haunting him often the past several weeks. Trying to shake the images from his mind, he didn't answer her. Instead, he held her tighter and closed his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Hey."

"Hey. Ready to go?" Cristian walked into Layla's apartment after she opened the door and stared at her back as she rushed back to whatever it was she was doing.

"Almost."

Settling himself on the couch, Cristian rubbed his eyes and stretched them wide, trying to wake himself up. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Maybe if Layla had been there, sleeping soundly next to him, he would have slept less fitfully. They wouldn't have invaded his dreams. He quickly changed the direction of his thoughts and tried to focus on his agenda: taking Layla to her 8 AM doctor's appointment before they both went to work for the day.

He heard her moving about in the bathroom and decided to help himself to a cup of coffee. He needed the caffeine. He frowned as he remembered Layla was drinking decaf. After pouring himself a cup--maybe he could trick his mind into thinking it was _real_ coffee--the phone rang.

"Can you get that for me, please?"

"Sure." Grabbing the cordless phone sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter, Cristian glanced at the caller ID before answering. He didn't recognize the number. Probably an early telemarketer. "Hello?"

"Uh, hey. Is Layla there?" It was a male voice. A male voice that sounded exactly like Nash Brennan.

Immediately frowning, Cristian's voice dripped with a small amount of disdain as he replied. "She is. Hang on a second." Walking over to the open bathroom door, Cristian held out the phone, the frown still on his handsome face. "It's Nash."

Her face quickly registered a surprised, questioning look before she took the phone from his hand. Curious, Cristian stood in the bathroom entrance as Layla spoke into the phone. "Hello?...Hey...Okaaaaaaay. Sure...Oh, well," she glanced at Cristian. "Everything's fine. I'm headed to a check-up now..." She chuckled. "Well, thanks, Brennan...Yeah. Okay. I'll try to get back with you sometime later today, okay?...Okay. Bye." Setting the phone on the bathroom counter, Layla poured some lotion into her hands, waiting on Cristian to ask what the phone call was about. She knew he didn't like him.

"What was that about?" His voice didn't hide the way he felt about Nash Brennan.

Layla sighed. "He just wanted me to call my friend Kandice about some business with the vineyard." She looked at him. "Do you want your face to freeze like that?" She laughed softly before continuing. "I know you don't like him but he's not all bad. People make mistakes."

Cristian snorted as he leaned against the door jamb. "That's an understatement."

Finished applying her lotion, Layla leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "Both of them hurt Antonio but only one of them was in a serious commitment and broke vows. I'm not trying to defend his actions but what makes Nash worse than Jessica? They both went about following their hearts the wrong way."

Cristian sighed. He didn't want to argue with her. And he knew she was right. "Okay. Both of them were wrong. Especially Jessica." He shrugged. "Nash and that smirk...He just rubs me the wrong way."

Layla didn't know why she even went there. Here she was pointing out the foulness of Jessica's cheating to the guy her own sister cheated on. Evangeline was her sister, her blood, a bond that would never break, but Layla could sometimes look into Cristian's eyes and feel her anger rise at anyone who had ever hurt him. And that, unfortunately, included her sister. She was trying, and making good progress, but every once in a while the complexity of her situation would invade her thoughts. Like right now.

She and Cristian could talk about Evangeline. And they had talked about her. Her condition. Memories they had of her. Well, the _positive_ memories, because the one thing they never really talked about was how her relationship with Cristian ended. Layla didn't feel comfortable discussing it. Cristian never brought it up but she figured it was because he was over it, like he was over every other wrongdoing committed against him. She hated how Cristian had been done but she couldn't bring herself to direct any anger in her comatose sister's way. And she definitely couldn't considering she had fallen in love with Vange's ex, something she herself would've thought was unimaginable and pretty damn wrong six months ago.

Noticing her features darkening, Cristian knew what she was thinking about. He saw it in her eyes; they always gave her away. Their situation was definitely still complicated in spite of the strides they'd made in their relationship over the last several weeks, and it probably would be for some time to come, but the last thing he wanted was to leave anything about his relationship with Evangeline unsaid. When he moved on, he moved on. And he had moved on from Evangeline. While he always assumed Layla knew, he couldn't recall telling her from his own mouth in no uncertain terms that he had. He'd told her he loved her and knew she believed him wholeheartedly, but he wanted to clear the air for her peace of mind and his. They were going to do this. They were going to make it work. They were going to be a family. But there were a couple of silent roadblocks standing in their way. This was one of them. The other one involved his sitting down with her mother and explaining himself.

Pushing himself from the door jamb, he walked to stand in front of her, looking into her downturned face. After waiting several seconds for her to meet his eyes, he decided to start talking when she didn't. But then she suddenly looked into his eyes and spoke before he had a chance to open his mouth.

"Will you be honest with me?" she asked. She knew she didn't have to but it was the first segue that came to mind since she knew _he_ knew what she was thinking and was about to do what he always did: dive right into the matter headfirst. In answer, he nodded, continuing to look into her eyes. Hesitating momentarily, she continued, her voice soft and a little unsure of itself. "Do you ever think about it? About what she did?...Is there even the smallest part of you that's still angry with her?" She watched his eyes carefully as they moved away from hers briefly, seeing that he was thinking about her questions. His eyes were so expressive. They always gave him away.

He didn't take long to think about it. He didn't need to. Meeting her eyes again, he spoke matter-of-factly. "I loved her, Layla. I really loved her. So...yes, I was hurt. And angry. And I felt like I'd wasted all that time loving someone who wanted another man in her life more than she wanted me when she was the only one I wanted. But, after awhile..." His eyes looked away again and he shrugged as he recalled his feelings. "I didn't anymore. I wasn't hurt. I wasn't angry." Turning back to look into her eyes, he went on. "I'm not trying to minimize what we had but things happen for a reason. I moved on. I still care about her. I always will." Layla watched as his eyes took on an even greater intensity. "But, Layla, I don't want you to ever think you're some kind of substitute or rebound to me. You're..." She watched as he looked to be at a loss for words, eyes begging her to understand what he was trying to say.

He shook his head briefly and looked down. Everything he could say that could express just how deeply embedded his heart was with hers all seemed so cliche. This love had snuck up on him so unexpectedly but damned if it didn't have a chokehold on him so tight he felt he couldn't breathe if he didn't have her by his side to show him how.

She never saw "substitute" in his eyes. Never saw "rebound." Never saw pity or booty call or project or place-holder or any of the other things women and sometimes she herself saw in a man's eyes. What she saw scared her to death. The way he looked at her. The unconditional love she saw. It truly scared the shit out of her. It had all happened so fast and she had never experienced anything like it before. One minute he was just some suspect John Doe to her. Then his wife had chosen someone else over him. Then he had been her sister's man. Then her sister had chosen someone else over him. Now he was her best friend and she was so in love with everything about him she knew there would never be any choice. This was it. In spite of its painfully conflicting and difficult start, it was new, intense, exciting, and more than a little overwhelming. It hadn't come easily, but those kinds of blessings rarely did. And it probably never would be easy. One thing she wasn't was naive. But she would never run away. She had promised him that. No matter what would come their way, she would not run.

Taking one step closer to him so that she was in his space, she met his eyes as he raised them to hers. Bringing her right hand up to stroke his face, she let him know she understood. "I love you, too."

Placing his hand over hers on his face for a moment while staring lovingly into her eyes, he removed her hand and wrapped it in his, drawing it to his heart, effectively bringing her deeper within his space. "I love you. So much."

She smiled as he placed a quick peck on the tip of her nose. Then her smile disappeared into his mouth as his lips took hers in a slow, gentle, knee-weakening kiss. She still hadn't become accustomed to those. _Nobody_ could become accustomed to those. _Unless their ass was dead._ Every time he kissed her like that, she felt as though he were trying to meld their souls into one. He kissed her as if he couldn't possibly get enough. His lips and hers were like his paintbrush and canvas: they were made for each other. Made to join together and create indescribable feeling.

The phone ringing again brought them both back to earth. Grateful for the distraction--sometimes it was just too intense it rattled her--she grabbed the cordless off the bathroom counter and checked the caller ID, taking the opportunity to catch her breath and regain her bearings. Seeing it was some caller from WhereTheHellIsThat?, Missouri, she set the phone back down and grabbed Cristian's hand, leading him out of the bathroom. "If we don't get out of here, we're going to miss our appointment." After Cristian helped her put her coat on, she grabbed her purse and they hurried out the door.

Sitting in the waiting room--they'd made it with five minutes to spare as Cristian could put the pedal of his silver 2007 Audi TT to the metal when he wanted to--Layla watched as Cristian tried to focus on a magazine, his eyes opening wide after closing for several seconds at a time. He must not have slept a wink. She leaned over and nudged him. "Wake up." She smiled.

Opening his eyes wide again, he turned to her. "Sorry. Did you say something?"

"I just told you to wake up...Were you up late? You don't look like you slept at all." She stroked the side of his face briefly, wondering why he hadn't gotten much sleep.

Shrugging and immediately turning his eyes back to the magazine in his hands, he replied, "Not much. Sometimes I have a little trouble falling asleep." It was true. He did. He always had. And he wasn't about to worry her over some dreams that were going to go away. They _were_ going to go away. That part of his life was over. He never went back--only forward. Nothing came of dwelling on the past, subconsciously or not. And they were going to stop. He had everything he could possibly want. The other shoe was not going to drop. It couldn't.

"Layla Williamson?" The nurse appeared at the door, interrupting Layla's mini-interrogation. Both of them setting their magazines aside, they quickly rose from their seats and followed the nurse, Cristian's arm about Layla's waist.

After getting her patient's weight measured, the nurse led them into one of the examination rooms, trying to keep her eyes off of her patient's companion. He wasn't just fine. He was _foine_. _Lucky heffa_. Smiling, the nurse left the two of them in the room after taking Layla's blood pressure.

"I hate going to the doctor. That's why I never get sick." Layla fidgeted with her earring.

Cristian smiled. "So that's all you have to do? Just hate going to the doctor and you won't get sick?"

"Yep...Smartass." She looked around for something to throw at him but didn't find anything. "You're the reason I'm here!"

Cristian chuckled and rose from his chair. Going to stand in front of her as she sat on the edge of the examination table, he wrapped his strong arms around her and said, "I'm sorry...But thank you."

Layla relaxed in his arms, inhaling his cologne-laced scent. It calmed her nerves. Hell, just being in the same room with him calmed her nerves. When it wasn't doing the exact opposite and setting her body on fire, that is. And he was so damn sweet. Apologizing for knocking her up and making her have to go to the doctor regularly while thanking her for carrying his child at the same time. She should be thanking him. Thanking him for making her feel like the most precious, adored woman on earth. Still melting in his embrace, she replied, "That's okay. You're an okay guy to be doing this for."

"Gee. Thanks."

She pulled out of his embrace and took both of his hands in hers, features turning serious. "Thanks for being here with me. It makes it a lot easier."

He removed his right hand from hers and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, slightly lifting her face so he could look her square in her eyes. "I'll always be here. Whenever you need me."

_What the hell did I do? What did I do to deserve him?_ Taking her bottom lip into her mouth, she tried to stop the tears from forming behind her eyelids. Damn hormones again. So that he wouldn't see her acting like a big baby because he said something nice, she pulled him to her and rested against him, feeling his arms wrap around her again while she successfully kept the moisture from falling. It was just what she needed: to have the doctor walk in and see a big sobbing mess on the table and wonder if Cristian had hurt her. Feeling that she had her emotions back in check, she pulled herself from his embrace again. "Stop trying to make me cry, okay?"

He smiled softly and pointed with his thumb back in the direction of the chair he was sitting in. "I'll just go back over there. So I don't get in any more trouble." Kissing her on the corner of her mouth, he turned and resumed his position in the chair in the corner of the room, continuing to smile at her.

Just as Layla was about to make her retort, a knock sounded on the door and Dr. Rosenburg cheerily entered. "Layla! Hi, sweetie. How are we doing today?" Taking note of Cristian who stood as she entered, she continued. "So you brought Handsome with you today?" She winked at Layla before nodding her head in appreciation at her patient's companion. He was a good twenty-five years her junior and she was happily married but she could appreciate a good-looking man any day of the week. "She been wearing you out, Cristian? You look beat."

Continuing to smile and look down bashfully, Cristian just shook his head, surprised she remembered his name after meeting him only once before in passing. Although this was his first doctor's visit with Layla, he had met Dr. Rosenburg while out having dinner with Layla, Antonio, and Talia. On her way to being seated, she had passed their table and spoke, unabashedly complimenting the two women on having good taste in men. Actually, as he thought about it, he couldn't remember any mention of his name at the restaurant. Maybe Layla had told her about him and she wrote his name down in her chart so she wouldn't forget.

Getting the small talk out of the way, the doctor went to work examining her patient, checking her heart rate and the fetal heart rate. "Come over here, Handsome. You can hear your baby's heartbeat."

A fleeting nervous look passing over his features, Cristian stood by Layla's side as he watched the doctor walk over to the sink and clean the earbuds of her stethoscope with sanitary wipes, turning to look down at Layla, a grin on his face matching hers.

"Okay, here we go." Positioning the stethoscope on Layla's stomach after Cristian settled the instrument in place in his ears, she asked, "Hear that?"

Listening carefully, Cristian nodded. "Yeah," the awe written all over his face. He still couldn't believe it. He was going to be a father. Looking down into Layla's face again, his mouth slowly formed another huge smile, teeth and all. "Have you heard this? Our baby?"

"Yeah. It's amazing, isn't it?" She loved this. She loved seeing him so happy.

"Yeah," Dr. Rosenburg chimed in. "You two did a good job." Finished embarrassing them, she got back to business. Addressing Layla, she gave her prognosis. "Well, everything looks okay, sweetie. You just keep doing what you're doing. Your BP's just a wee bit elevated but look at the gorgeous company you keep." She took the stethoscope from Cristian's hands after he had finished listening to his baby's heartbeat.

Layla laughed out loud and looked at him. Yep, he was turning red with that sheepish smile playing across his lips again. _His fine ass ought to be used to it by now. My goodness._

"Seriously, Layla, you and that kiddo are in good shape. I know you don't like coming here to see me so that's probably why your blood pressure was just a little high when you got here. Keep up with the prenatal vitamins and make sure you're still getting a lot of folic acid like I told you. Next time is the 20th week ultrasound." Her voice got higher in pitch as she said the latter in a singsong voice. "You know what that means, right?"

"We can find out the sex, right?" Cristian was on top of his game in that piece.

Dr. Rosenburg raised her eyebrows and nodded in the affirmative. "Mmm-hmm. Okay you two. Any questions for me? I'm really pleased with everything."

Layla shook her head as she rose from her back, Cristian reaching out to help her. "I'm good actually." She turned to look at Cristian, sure he would have something to ask. She was shocked when he shook his head, too, and told the doctor he was good.

"Thanks a lot, Dr. Rosenburg." He reached out to shake her hand.

"Oh, Handsome, call me Lisa." Grabbing Layla's chart, she headed for the door. "Okay, sweetie. I'll see you next time, okay?" She nodded back in Cristian's direction. "I'd sneak him out the back way so none of the nurses try to latch onto him." And with that, she breezed out the door.

Layla laughed again. _That woman is too much._

Shaking his head, Cristian reached out his right hand to her. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," she said with plenty of relief in her voice.

"So what do you think?" Cristian returned his eyes to the road, heading towards the _Craze_ offices to drop Layla off for the day.

"About what?"

"Are we going to find out?"

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?"

"I asked you first."

Cristian chuckled. "Okay...I think I want to know."

Layla was surprised. She really thought he was the type who would want to be surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah." He glanced over to her and smiled. "I don't think I can wait another five months. I was always terrible around Christmas when I was little. I was the one unwrapping part of my presents when everyone was gone to bed and re-wrapping it so no one would notice." He smiled at the memory. "I was pretty good at it, too."

"I'll bet...I kind of want to know, too, so I can start buying the stuff we need, you know?"

"Yeah...I've been trying to think about a mural for the nursery but...I don't know. It might be easier if I know what we're having. Maybe." He turned into the parking lot of Layla's job. "You still think it's a girl, don't you?"

Layla sighed. Just because she slipped up every once in awhile and called their baby a "she" and referred to it as a "her," he thinks she thinks it's a girl. _I do, but why does he have to assume that?_ "I don't know what it is, but I've been thinking it's going to be a girl. I'll never forget. One of my grandmother's friends--this really perceptive old lady--looked at me one day when I was, like, thirteen, and told me I was so contrary. And then she said one day I'd have a daughter who looked just like me but would be every inch her father's daughter because one of me in the house would be more than enough." She laughed softly in remembrance. "I don't why, but I've always remembered that."

Parking the car, Cristian absorbed her words. He would love that. A daughter. _Mi hija. Who looks just like her beautiful mother._ God, he couldn't wait to meet her. Hold her. Talk to her. Protect her. Teach her everything he knew. Looking at Layla, he spoke softly. "I'd love that."

Smiling at him, she asked, "So. We're going to find out? See if I'm right or just losing my mind?"

"Only if you want to."

_Of course he would say that._ Giving him a kiss, she grabbed her purse and waited for him to come around and open her door for her like he always did.

Grabbing her hand, he walked her to the entrance. "See you later. Don't work too hard." He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth and started to walk back to his car when he stopped as he heard her remind him he was self-employed and could go back home and take a nap so he could concentrate on his art.

When he got back to his studio, he went straight to work.

"Alright, man, thanks." Cristian patted his friend Terrence on the back as he left Layla's new condominium. The lease on Layla's and Adriana's apartment was up at the end of the year and Layla wanted to make the move before the holidays so she didn't have to worry about it when she should be relaxing over Christmas dinner. During the move, she had spent her time directing everyone, hanging up curtains, and getting the kitchen, bathroom, and master bedroom in order since Cristian wouldn't let her lift anything over five pounds. _And he says I'm over-protective._

Layla had been so grateful for all the help. It had made the move so much easier. Cristian had gotten Terrence and another of his friends from his Capricorn days, along with Antonio and Talia to help while Layla had enlisted Adriana and Luis, Kandice, and Monique from work. There were still quite a few things that needed to be put in place but her new home was coming together really well by the time she'd finished feeding all of her helpers and they'd all gone home.

She sighed as she sat on the couch in the living room, watching the ten o'clock news. Cristian had insisted she rest while he cleaned up the kitchen. She was tired as hell in spite of all the help she'd had. Rubbing her rounded belly, she thought about her upcoming trip to Atlanta for Christmas. She was nervous. Extremely nervous. Because Cristian was coming with her. To meet her mother. She knew Cristian could take care of himself but he didn't know her mother. Although Lisa Williamson had been relatively--and strangely--calm when Layla had broken the news of her whole "pregnant-by-sister's-ex" situation, she still worried about how Cristian would fare under her mother's interrogation that was sure to go down. But, he had insisted. And he was right to want to get it over with. They were all going to be in each others' lives and she prayed her mother would grow to accept him and be an involved grandmother to their child. Her mother could be so difficult when it came to her and her decisions. She sighed again.

"Hey." Cristian interrupted her thoughts as he sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side. "You ready for bed?"

"Yeah." She snuggled into his side. "Are you staying?"

"If you want me to."

_Hell yeah I want you to._ She was just a little chicken-shit about staying in her new home by herself. _So, sue me._ Rising from the couch, she held out her hand to him and led him into her bedroom to take a shower and go to bed.

Cristian awoke with a start, breathing heavy and heart pounding. His head was pounding along with his heart and his surroundings were not familiar. Where the hell was he? Immediately swinging his legs to the side of the bed, he looked around him, eyes wide, body in fight-or-flight mode. A soft touch to his bare shoulder caused him to jump a mile high.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

_Layla_. Trying to even out his breathing and shake the images from his mind, he put his head in his right hand, rubbing his forehead. _Layla. I'm here with Layla._

Rubbing his back, Layla could feel his heart pounding through his back. "Cristian. Hey, are you okay?"

Taking both hands and sliding them down his face, Cristian took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to lubricate his bone-dry throat. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm..." _Dammit. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not when I'm with her._ "I'm fine."

Crawling over to his side of the bed to sit next to him, Layla resumed rubbing his back. _The hell you are._ "Did you have a bad dream?...It's okay. Everything's okay."

_No, it's not. It's not okay._ "Yeah. I'm okay." He finally turned to face her in the darkness, her face beginning to calm his frayed nerves.

"Do you want me to get you some water?" She hadn't stopped rubbing his back. She needed to touch him, let him know she was there. Did he always have nightmares that caused him to wake up in a cold sweat? If he didn't, what had caused this one? He had been a million miles away when she called his name a second ago and had jumped away from her touch like she was on fire.

They were always so vivid. Too vivid. Too real. They didn't come to him every night but why the hell had they started coming at all? He was over all of that. It was all over. He had gotten his life back. He was more happy than he'd ever been. Why was God taking his peace again?

She couldn't put her finger on it but there was something in his eyes. Even in the darkness. He looked like he was drowning. _My God. What had he dreamt about?_ Worry lines filled her face. _I'm sure he's fine. Everybody has a bad dream every once in awhile. Right?_ She just knew she was worrying needlessly. _Right?_

He couldn't do this. He couldn't think about this right now. _Layla._ He needed her. He needed to be close to her. Her softness. Her safety. He lifted his right hand to her face and caressed her cheek. Layla. His peace. "I'm okay. I just..."

She put her hand over his hand on her face. "What? What happened?" He looked so lost.

He swallowed and continued to implore her eyes. "I just...I need you." He almost couldn't believe he had just spoken that aloud. He always tried to be strong for everyone he cared about. He was always the rock in his family. But, Layla--she took him out of his comfort zone, always made him feel as though he could let go with her. She was so small but her strength was staggering.

He needed to feel her. Slowly, he pressed his lips to hers, trying to absorb her into his conscience, his soul. Her purity. She hadn't been touched by his past. And he wouldn't let her.

She allowed him to kiss her. She allowed him to lay her down onto her back. She allowed him to remove her gown and panties, and then she watched him take off his pajama bottoms and briefs. Then she allowed him to make love to her, his passion nearly subduing her thoughts. He moved in and out of her slowly, each fluid motion dripping with desire yet crying out in need. So she continued to give him what he needed, beginning to feel delirious as he pleasured her beyond belief while she saved him from himself.

She would let it go for tonight. He wasn't ready to talk. And it had been a long day. But, she wouldn't forget. Something wasn't quite right. She could be over-reacting, but everything told her she wasn't. The way he had looked at her. The way he had said he needed her. The way he kissed her. The way he was making love to her. Something was troubling him, but for now, she would be there for him. Until he was ready. Or until she made him ready because there was no way in hell she was going to let him push her away if there was something seriously wrong. Hopefully there wasn't. But that wasn't some shit she was about to play. No way.

Lisa Williamson hugged her daughter as she entered the house. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?"

Hugging her mother back, she replied, "Hey Mom. I'm fine."

Standing behind them while dropping Layla's bags--his were back in the hotel room he booked since he wasn't about to assume Layla's mother would be comfortable with him staying at her house with her daughter no matter whose child she was carrying--Cristian waited for Layla to introduce him.

"Mom," Layla reached back and grabbed Cristian by his arm, bringing him to her side. "This is Cristian." Her heart was pounding like a mother. It was almost as bad as when she was preparing to tell her sister about her pregnancy. _Oh, please be nice, Mother. PLEASE be nice._

Immediately extending his hand, Cristian spoke first, a genuine smile on his face. "Hi, Mrs. Williamson. It's wonderful to meet you." He couldn't believe the resemblance. Evangeline must have taken after their father. Layla was all her mother.

"Hello, Cristian." She took his proffered hand and shook it. "Well, come on in, you two. Have a seat. How was the flight?"

_Oh, thank you, God. She's being nice._ "It was fine. The plane took off late so that's why we're just getting here." She sat on the couch, Cristian settling down next to her.

"Anybody want anything to drink?"

Starting to rise from the couch, Layla offered, "I can get it, Mom." Before she could make it completely off the couch, she felt Cristian's hand on her forearm.

"I can help your mom, Layla." Cristian pushed himself off of the couch and offered in explanation to her mother who was watching them carefully, "She's been really tired lately."

"Well, it's not easy bringing a child into the world." Lisa spoke evenly. He was a good-looking man. Very good-looking. And he clearly worked out on a regular basis. Looked like a man who probably made the rounds and had women hanging off of him wherever he went when he wasn't with her daughter. _Or my other daughter._ He seemed nice enough. But all pretty boys were charming. She immediately wondered why Evangeline had spoken so highly of him but had never gotten around to introducing him to her.

Lisa didn't play games. She was too old for that. That beating around the bush mess. And she wanted to be dead sure about this young man's intentions with her daughter now that he'd gotten her pregnant. After helping him fix the three of them a drink, Lisa led him back into the family room and watched as he handed her daughter the punch she had prepared prior to their arrival.

After engaging in some small talk, Lisa decided it was time to have a chat with this Cristian Vega before company arrived and she didn't have the chance. She knew Layla and Cristian were leaving the day after Christmas so there wouldn't be much time for her to gain some peace of mind. And clear her conscience.

"Layla, Cristian and I are going to go out on the porch and talk. Get to know each other a little better."

_Shit, shit, shit. Here it goes._ Layla swallowed and gave Cristian the most discreet _I'll pray for you_ look she could muster.

He was ready for this. Even though he felt that same fear he felt each time he entered the ring back in his boxing days. He just had to be honest. All he could do was hope everything would work out. It would weigh on his heart if he couldn't get her blessing but he had a baby on the way and was too much in love with Layla to walk away if she didn't approve.

Sitting across from Lisa in a chair on the porch, Cristian took a deep breath and leaned forward on his elbows, shortening the distance between them and focusing his attention on her.

Lisa crossed her arms. "So, Cristian. Do you make it a habit of working your way through family members?"

Cristian cringed slightly. That was where Layla got it from. Then he took another deep breath and prepared himself for what was already turning out to be the toughest conversation of his life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Cristian kept his face neutral as his thoughts raced. _Natalie and Jessica. Sisters...Twins._ It didn't look good. It didn't look good at all. Had he made it a habit? No, no he hadn't. Had he? In a matter of seconds, he gave himself two options: he could tell Mrs. Williamson he had, in fact, loved two sisters on two separate occasions before, or he could not shoot himself in the foot before he even had a chance and, thus, decline to tell her something that had no bearing on how he felt about Layla. He wanted full disclosure with Mrs. Williamson but his relationships with Jessica and Natalie--and Evangeline for that matter--were no longer relevant to him, so he chose the latter.

And it wasn't a habit. It was a coincidence. One of those really fucked up coincidences.

Looking into her eyes, he answered. "No, ma'am, I don't."

Lisa studied him carefully. She knew her hardened stare was known to intimidate and scare people off on occasion and she used it to her advantage when she needed to. When Cristian didn't flinch, didn't look away, didn't even appear to be fazed, she softened her gaze and uncrossed her arms, leaning further back into her chair, analyzing the situation. Well, he wasn't a weak man. He seemed very serious about his business, very engaged. Determined. And she had to give him _some_ credit: some men, especially ones that looked like him, wouldn't have bothered coming to meet her just because they got her daughter pregnant. They'd probably be running around saying the baby wasn't theirs. But that didn't mean this man wouldn't drop Layla the minute the baby was born because he suddenly got "scared" or the baby didn't look like it was his or some other crap like that.

Relaxed into her chair while Cristian continued to focus his attention on her, she went on. "Look, Cristian, I'm not trying to be a witch here but I'm sure you can imagine what this looks like to me. You were involved with Evangeline one minute, then she gets hurt and...falls into a coma... and the next thing I know, Layla's telling me she's pregnant with your child."

Cristian nodded in understanding and replied, "I understand, Mrs. Williamson." He did. The situation _was_ pretty fucked up. Coincidences and all.

She waited for him to say something else. To defend himself and say it wasn't his fault things ended with her eldest to make himself look better. She knew the gist of what had happened. She and Layla spoke on the phone at least once every couple of weeks and during one of those calls--while she was expressing her apprehension about her younger daughter's relationship with Cristian and sudden love for him--Layla had finally told her what happened. Or at least as much as she was willing to tell since it didn't reflect well on her sister whom she loved and missed terribly. Lisa's daughters rarely kept her in the loop but they had always had each other so she tried not to worry too much. It had been like pulling teeth trying to get Layla to help her understand exactly what caused Evangeline's split with this Cristian, and why she had gotten herself in the position to get pregnant by him.

But, he didn't. So she decided to hit him from a different angle. She wasn't about to have her daughter in love with some fool who was all about playing games with her emotions until he was ready for his next conquest. "Do you love her?" She observed him carefully, looking for any kind of hesitation or telltale signs of straight lying. This was her child. And she wasn't going to play any games. _Any more games._

"Yes, ma'am. Very much." After showing her the sincerity that was in his heart through his eyes, Cristian took them away and looked down at his hands, slightly shaking his head as he spoke. "Mrs. Williamson, I wasn't looking for this." He brought his eyes back to her face. "And I know you have no reason to believe me but I wasn't trying to hurt Evangeline. And I'm not using Layla to get over her. Layla and I--we'd always been friends..." He chuckled softly as his mind went on a tangent. "She's friends with everybody. I can't keep track of all the people she knows. She's so outgoing, everybody just flocks to her." Lisa watched as his eyes took on a far away look as he spoke. "But, anyway," he shook his head and dropped his eyes to his hands again, realizing he was getting off topic. "One day...a while after Evangeline and I didn't make it, something changed. I didn't think of her as just my friend anymore." Once again, he made eye contact with Lisa. "I fell in love with her."

Lisa absorbed his words, squinting her eyes as she scrutinized him. "Cristian, I know things didn't exactly end well with you and my daughter--my other daughter." She sighed. _Like a damn soap opera..._ "I don't doubt what you're saying, but Layla--she's always been the one who worried me. Not because I don't think she can handle herself; it just seems like she doesn't think things through. Ever since she was a child. She always did things without thinking first. Just flew by the seat of her pants. Didn't care about planning--just went with the wind wherever it blew. After she graduated from college, she worked for a little bit at a great company and then quit and decided to go to Hollywood and become a big star. Didn't know a soul out there but she had a dream and she was young and determined to do it." She shook her head and sighed again. Then she caught herself. Who was she fooling? Layla was just like her. She had made a rash decision once upon a time, too.

Cristian smiled softly. Lisa noticed his eyes taking on that far away look again.

That was one of the things he loved most about her. Her fire. Her spontaneity. "She loves life. She knows how to live it to the fullest. Without hopes and dreams, what's left?" He sat back and relaxed for the first time since they'd began their conversation. "I always hope that, when I go, I don't have any regrets. That I at least tried to do everything I ever wanted to do."

Lisa thought about that for a few moments, the pang in her stomach distracting her. _Regrets._ Things she didn't want to regret never doing--or saying--before she passed. Forcing a small smile to her face, she responded, "Well, there's that." She sighed yet again, returning to her original focus. "This all happened pretty fast, Cristian, and I know she's already in love with you. Layla loves hard. And there's a baby involved who isn't going to just go away when the honeymoon period is over. I just don't want her to get hurt." _Anymore than she will be._

Nodding, Cristian sat forward again. "I know, Mrs. Williamson." A smile spread across his lips. "Layla thinks the baby's going to be a girl." He shook his head as his thoughts wandered. "I just can't imagine what I'm going to do when she turns sixteen and starts dating. Or how I'm going to let go when she gets married...All I can do is show her how she should be treated and what kind of respect she deserves by how I treat her mother. Kids learn by what you show them. I want her to know she's precious and deserves the best of everything, just like her mother."

It was Lisa's turn to nod. Then she studied him again. She still wasn't completely convinced, but he hadn't once lied or spouted a lot of bullshit or tried to diminish her concerns by just telling her to trust him. And he was going to prove himself. If not for her, for his daughter. Although it was extremely disconcerting that he'd been involved with Evangeline for several months, if she discounted that--as hard as that was--she did feel more comfortable knowing Layla had him to count on. She saw the strength in his character. It surprised her. Like he'd lived many lives during his short years but, as that song went, didn't have the scars to show it. She knew her daughter would take the news hard and would probably push her away. And since she didn't even have her sister to turn to anymore, Lisa would have to trust that this young man meant what he said and what he did. Layla would need that.

Layla stood at the bathroom mirror, wrapping her hair for the night. Cristian had gotten through it. It felt like he and her mother had been outside talking forever and she couldn't help but wander over to the window several times to peek out while they were talking, just to make sure her mother hadn't murdered him or anything. Layla had been a bit of a wild child when she was little but one look from her mother would straighten her out in no time and she was sure Cristian was getting a taste of that same Lisa Williamson treatment.

When her mother and Cristian had walked back into the house, she had scrutinized his face and was surprised to see him look as though he'd just been out for a walk in the park. Straight cool as hell. He had walked over to her sitting on the couch and asked her if _she_ was okay. And for the rest of the day, after company had arrived, she didn't even notice any tension between Cris and her mother. And she was looking damn hard. Whatever had happened, it couldn't have been bad. Her mother wasn't rolling out the welcoming mat for him complete with balloons and confetti but she was being nice. More nice than Layla would have ever imagined considering the circumstances. She didn't make any snide remarks and was even eagerly giving Cristian little parenting tips like they were old friends or something. Almost like she wouldn't be there to give them some advice later herself. _No, that's not it._ Layla didn't understand it but she wasn't about to rock the boat and ask her mother what was wrong. She would just harass Cristian about what happened later. Shaking her head and sighing, Layla flipped the light switch off in the bathroom and headed to her old bedroom to get ready for bed. Alone.

Despite the fact that Lisa had offered Cristian the use of one of the guest rooms, he had declined, citing his already booked hotel room. Layla had told him it would be okay to stay, that if her mother even offered, he must have made somewhat of a decent impression on her, but he didn't want to appear too forward and asked Layla to drop him off at the hotel. She had wanted to stay with him so badly--it was Christmas Eve--but she didn't want her mother to think she didn't want to stay at the house with her and consequently fuck up Lisa's good mood. So, she had spent about an hour with him in his room trying to get some answers about what had happened on the porch--he wasn't very forthcoming--kissed him goodnight and drove back home.

Crawling into bed, she heard her cell phone ring and reached over to the nightstand to see who it was. A smile immediately spread across her face. "Hey."

"Hey, Beautiful."

"You aren't asleep yet? Too bad you're way over there tonight; you can't sneak and unwrap the present I got you."

"I know...If I were I'd unwrap it _very_ slowly and carefully and tell our baby girl not to mind Daddy and go back to sleep."

She wrinkled up her nose. "You are so nasty." She laughed as quietly as she could. "I didn't know you wanted _me_ to be your present. I could've saved a lot of money!"

"You're all I need, Layla. All I want."

"Stop it, Cristian." She felt tears welling up. Already. He always did that to her. And she always blamed her hormones when she knew damn well if she wasn't pregnant she'd have still reacted the same way.

"Stop what?"

"You know what."

"If you want me to stop telling you how I feel about you, I'm really going to be pissing you off for the rest of my natural life, Layla," he answered matter-of-factly.

She sniffed, getting her hyperactive tear ducts under control. "Cris, I really hate you. You know that right? Just in case I haven't been clear before."

"Yes," he answered simply.

She laughed. She loved him so much. "Keep playing, Cristian. You're going to mess around and I'm not going to come pick you up tomorrow."

She heard him laugh. "Okay. I'm finished. I promise."

"I'll probably be over there by 7. We can go visit Vange and then some of my other relatives."

"Okay. Sounds good."

"Okay. I love you...Sleep tight." She added the latter thinking about the past Saturday night when he'd had that nightmare. He went on to act as though nothing had happened the next day, and she didn't want to ask him about it. Maybe it really had been nothing. Just an isolated incident. And they had spent the next day continuing to get her place in order and getting ready for their Christmas Eve trip Monday, too busy for any deep conversation. She did notice, however, that he had stayed Sunday night at his own place. She could be making a big deal out of nothing, though. He _had_ spent the day with her and needed to go home and pack that evening so it made sense that he would sleep in his own bed.

"I love you, too. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Tell the baby I said goodnight, too."

"I will. See you tomorrow."

"Okay." He hung up and sighed. He hoped he could get some sleep tonight. He needed it. He was beginning to dread when nightfall came because he couldn't handle them. The dreams. The fucking dreams. They took him back to the ship. To every horrific thing he never wanted to remember.

Five minutes after hanging up with Cristian and giving their baby his message, Layla heard a knock on her door.

"Layla, it's me."

"Come in." She watched as her mother entered her room, in her robe, and stood just inside the entrance.

"Everything okay? Do you need another blanket?"

"No, I'm good." She frowned suspiciously. _Why is she standing over there like she has something she doesn't want to say?_

"Need a drink of water or anything?"

"No, I have some right here." She pointed to the cup on her nightstand. _What is her problem?_ She watched as her mother slowly walked over to her bed and sat down.

"Is everything still going okay? With the baby?"

In response, Layla glanced down at her belly and placed both hands over it. She was sixteen weeks along and still small enough that she hadn't began wearing maternity clothes yet. Keeping her hands on her belly, she looked up at her mother. "Doctor says everything's fine. I haven't felt her move yet, though. I know I'm crazy for wanting to feel it now when it's probably going to keep me awake at night once it starts."

Lisa smiled. "Mmm-hmm, sweetheart, it probably will. Your sister was a _nightmare._" She and Layla both laughed.

"Really?"

"Child, she kept me up constantly. And she was overdue."

"I didn't know that."

Lisa nodded and rubbed her daughter's leg. "Yep...Maybe I thought it was the worst because she was my first but that whole pregnancy just was not easy." She smiled again at the memory. "At the end you won't be able to wait until it's time to go into labor. Baby will be pressing on your bladder, making your back hurt, and moving around like crazy. You'll probably be a little scared when the time comes--I know I was terrified--but it'll be okay. You'll get through it. And once it's all over, you'll have the most precious gift. And you'll look back and know it was all worth it." Lisa continued to smile at the memories. "You, though, you didn't give me much trouble at all." Lisa's pregnancy with Layla had been physically easy, but she had been an emotional wreck before she had told her husband. Told him what she had done.

"What about Daddy? Did he make sure you didn't lift a finger and bring you breakfast in bed and all that?"

That pang hit her stomach again. He _was_ Layla's daddy. He was. She nodded. "Mmm-hmm. He did. At least at the beginning. And then at the end when I didn't want to move."

"Cristian's like that. He's so excited." She looked her mother in the eyes to see her reaction to Cristian's name. She really wanted to know what had happened on the porch even though she knew curiosity killed the cat.

Looking back into her daughter's eyes, Lisa asked, "Are you really happy, Layla? Do you trust him? With everything that's in you? When I send you and my grandbaby back home with him, I want to be sure you're doing the right thing. And you're happy. And he'll be there for you no matter what happens." Then, she added quickly. "With the baby."

"Mom, I'm almost thirty. I'm not eighteen anymore. You always treat me like I don't know what I'm doing. Everybody has to make mistakes _sometime_. And everybody does." She sighed heavily as she realized she was just getting warmed up. She still didn't understand why her mother was so much harder on her than on her sister. "I know I didn't plan on getting pregnant, but this wasn't a mistake. I know it's weird with Vange and everything and it's still weird to me sometimes, but...he's a really good man. You always told us to look at how a guy treats his mother, right? Cris adores his mother. He opens car doors...He actually _listens_. And he prays. And after everything he's been through in his life, he can still wake up in the morning and see so much good in the world around him. Just by looking at him and everything he's lived through, he just makes you believe that no matter what, there's too much joy out there to stop living. I love that about him." She sighed. "I can handle this, Mom. I've always handled everything that's ever come my way." She felt tears nearing the surface. "Even losing my father and my sister."

Lisa leaned forward and stroked her daughter's cheek. "Layla, baby, I know you can. I believe you." Both of her girls were strong. It was why Evangeline was still hanging on and was going to come back to them. But her nerve was failing her. And it was Christmas. She couldn't lay this on Layla. Not now. She just couldn't. After all of these years, she still hadn't found and kept the nerve. How could you tell your daughter that the man she knew as her father--her blood--was, in fact, not. _How? After all these years?_ Rising off the bed, Lisa leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "I love you. You'll always be my baby girl, you hear me? I'll always worry about you. You'll understand soon."

"I love you, too." Layla wondered if she had gotten anywhere with her mother just now.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Lisa closed the door to Layla's room. Then she went into her bedroom, crawled underneath the covers, and cried.

Layla stood outside of Cristian's hotel room early Christmas morning and knocked softly. It didn't take him long to answer. Wearing a crisp cream button down long-sleeved shirt, black slacks, and black dress shoes, he opened the door and smiled. "Hey." Taking her by the hand, he led her into his room and into his arms, the door closing on its own behind them.

"Hey. Merry Christmas." Layla rubbed his back within his embrace.

"Merry Christmas."

Pulling back slightly so she could look into his eyes, Layla watched for any signs that he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. He looked okay. But he had just gotten out of bed and probably hadn't had any coffee yet so she wasn't entirely sure. _Whatever. I'll just ask him._ "Did you sleep okay last night?" She decided to add a caveat. "Hotel beds can be hell to sleep on, especially the pillows." There. She made it sound like it was just a casual question.

"Yeah. I did. I missed you, though." He knew why she'd asked. He was still mad at himself for worrying her that night. He had done a horrible job of trying to convince her he was okay. That dream had just been...too much. But she had been there. She settled his spirit and calmed his soul and he had needed that that night. He had needed her terribly. And she had saved him. After their lovemaking, he had fallen asleep peacefully in her arms and didn't dream at all for the rest of the night. Last night he had slept well, too. But he figured it just wasn't a night for them to come to him.

Layla relaxed. She believed him. Whenever he wasn't being entirely truthful, he could never look her in the eye. He would look away and try to be casual about it but she always knew. The man was a terrible liar. _"I really love your meatloaf, Layla." Looks at ceiling, window, floor, cupboards..._

"I missed you, too."

"How about you? You two sleep well?"

Glancing down at her belly, Layla replied, "Yeah. We did okay."

"Good. I'm glad."

Reaching into her coat pocket, Layla pulled out what she'd grabbed on her way out the door this morning, standing on the tips of her toes to hang it above Cristian's head. He glanced up to see what it was and smiled as Layla spoke. "Oh. Would you look at that? Where'd that mistletoe come from?"

"I have no idea. What is it for? I-I don't have a clue." He stepped closer to her, eyes dancing.

"I think--now I'm not really sure--but I think it's for this." She kissed him quickly once, getting off her tip toes and lowering her arm with the mistletoe, looking him in the eye mischievously.

Pointing at it and frowning, Cristian continued. "Is that all that thing can do?"

"Mmm-hmm. But I can do better." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she took his lips again and gave him a real Christmas kiss this time, the mistletoe falling from her hand as she ran her fingers through his lengthening hair, soft moans escaping her lips. Damn, if she didn't need oxygen she could have stayed like that all day. Tearing her mouth away from his, she breathed deeply and looked into his eyes, reveling in the desire and love she saw. She thought about feeling his hard, naked body against hers but they really had a lot to get done that day before they went home the day after. Knowing he was thinking the same thing, she decided to put the fire out. Giving him one last quick kiss, she stepped out of his arms and set her purse down on the bed, searching through its contents. "I have your present." Taking a red envelope, complete with red bow, out of her purse, she turned and handed it to him, a huge grin on her face. "I hope you like it."

Cristian smiled, turned, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Thank you." As he opened the envelope and took out the contents, Layla stood in front of him, nervously watching his face while he read what he held.

"Noooo...Layla..."

Her grin widened. "Yep."

"Noooooooooo..."

"Yes!"

"How? How did you get these? They're impossible to get!" Cristian shook his head as he saw he held two tickets to _the_ most exclusive art show in Europe. Nobody got tickets to it. Nobody. It was by invitation only. And then invitation of an invitation. You had to know people who knew people who knew more people who went to school with yet more people. Even though it was super exclusive, it was always held to raise large amounts of money for charities worldwide. Cristian had always wanted to go the show so exclusive it was only held once every five years and, thus, held voluminous collections by the world's greatest artists. And next year was the lucky year.

"I heard. A friend of mine in L.A. knows some people and he managed to score a couple tickets for me. He'd heard of your work--he loves art, too--and was able to get some for me."

"Layla, this is..." He continued to shake his head from side-to-side. "I can't believe this." Dropping the tickets to his side, he rose from the bed, immediately taking her into his arms. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

He squeezed her even tighter before letting her go and looking into her eyes. "Thank you." Placing his large hands on her stomach, he continued. "And thank you for this. For our baby. I don't think I've ever had a better Christmas."

_Oh, to hell with it._ Layla's eyes welled up and she kissed him again, pushing him backwards onto the bed. She didn't care anymore. They would just have to be late.

Trying to speak between her kisses, Cristian asked, "Layla...What...What about your present?"

Sitting up, she released his mouth and straddled him while unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm opening it."

Cristian didn't have a chance to reply as she feasted on his lips and sucked on his tongue while running her soft hands down his torso. He would just have to give her the purple and green seat cushion later. The seat cushion he'd brought along that represented the wooden rocking chair he'd built for her that was too big to bring to Atlanta to give her. He had had every intention of driving her crazy by giving her the cushion as a present and making her think that was all he'd gotten. _"You got me an ass cushion???" with what the fuck expression on face._ Now that he was pulling in six figures, he'd only wanted to give her something from his heart. A physical foundation where she and their baby could spend time strengthening their bond. Where he could watch them and know there would be no greater joy in his life but that. That moment.

"Hey, Bro."

"Hey. What's up?" Cristian held his studio door open, letting his brother in.

"Just wanted to stop by before you left. You two packed and ready to go?"

Cristian walked over to one of the yellow chairs in his studio and got it out of the corner for his brother to sit in. "Yeah. Layla's _been_ready to go." He chuckled. "She still can't believe she's going to get the chance to use some of her French finally."

Antonio smiled. "Hey it'll come in handy while you're over there."

"True. I certainly can't speak it." It was the third week in January and Cristian was scheduled to go to Paris on business regarding a commission for a couple of days. Knowing Layla had always wanted to go there, he'd bought her a ticket and told her he wasn't going without her.

Everything was getting back to order since they'd returned from Atlanta. Layla's condo move was finished and Cristian had come to somewhat of an understanding with her mother, even talking to her on the phone the other day when she'd called and Layla wasn't home. And, most importantly, his nightmares had stopped just as quickly as they'd started. He had slept peacefully every night since the night of Layla's move. He didn't understand it--why they'd even started at all--but he prayed they were indefinitely over and his fears would remain unrealized.

"So, you're going to do it?"

Cristian nodded and looked at his brother, a huge grin playing across his lips. "I'm going to do it."

"Mmmm..." Layla made one of those _I am in heaven_ moans as she stood in Cristian's arms taking in the view afforded by being on the third platform of the Eiffel Tower, one hour before the attraction's closing time. It was positively breathtaking in spite of the forty degree weather. They had visited everything so far that week: the Champs Elysees, the Tuileries, Place de la Concorde, and the Louvre and Picasso museums. She rested her hands on top of his that were settled comfortably across her belly, her back against his chest. She _was_ in heaven. People weren't lying when they said this was one of the most romantic places in the world. "This is so beautiful. It's perfect."

"Just about. I think it's missing something, though."

She turned her head briefly and tried to look into his eyes from her position within his arms. "Oh, wait, I know. You wish you had your paintbrushes with you, right?" She chuckled. "Baby, you want to paint _everything_ don't you? Or sketch it or photograph it..." She gave one last chuckle when she felt his arms disengage from her waist. _What, is he getting sensitive all of a sudden?_ She turned around to make sure he knew she was teasing and saw him on the platform in front of her. On bended knee. A small, velvet box in his gloved hand. Her heart stopped and her breath caught in her throat. _Oh. My. Gosh...Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh!_

Cristian opened the ring box and held it in his left hand, his right grabbing hold of her left, eyes boring into hers as he looked up from his position. "Layla...There really aren't enough words for me to tell you how much I love you...How much I need you." _God, he needed her._ But...I would like to try. For the rest of my life."

Her tears steadily fell. Again. But this time she was beginning to hyperventilate. _Breathe, Layla, breathe!_

She tried to listen as Cristian continued. "I promise to love you and cherish you and honor you until I take my last breath." He took a deep breath as concern began to creep into his features, finding himself suddenly hoping he wouldn't have to perform CPR or something on her. She was starting to scare him she was hyperventilating so bad. He almost hesitated to finally ask her. Almost. "Layla...Will you marry me?"

_Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh! I will! Yes! Yes! Oh my gosh!_ Layla immediately dropped down to her knees in front of him and grabbed his face, peppering it with kisses. Then she wrapped her arms around him, still trying to catch her breath.

Cristian couldn't help but laugh as she squeezed his neck, apparently trying to make him take his last breath a little earlier than expected as she was cutting off his oxygen supply. "Layla, baby, breathe."

"I can't! Cristian! Oh my gosh..." She took several more shallow breaths. "Oh my gosh..."

Cristian continued to hold her, the ring still in his left hand, smiling as he rubbed her back, trying to help her calm down. And wondering if she was going to give him a definite answer. He was pretty sure of what it was but this was one of those questions asked where one didn't want to jump the gun and assume.

After a couple of minutes, still completely oblivious to anyone around them although on this chilly night there were very few stragglers, he felt her breathing finally even out. "Layla? Are you okay?" He felt her nod against his shoulder. "Have you finished thinking about it yet?"

She immediately lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his face, a confused expression on her face. "Thinking about what?"

Now it was Cristian's turn to rock the perplexed look. He was beginning to wonder if she'd even heard him ask.

Then she heard a calm, sane voice in her head. _Layla, girl, tell that sexy as hell man you're going to marry him. And not in your head this time._ "Oh! Yes! I'm sorry...Yes." She kissed him and repeated her answer in between kisses. "Yes...Yes...Yes."

When he was finally able to steal his lips away from hers, he took the opportunity to set the ring box down and grab her left hand again to remove her glove. Then he took off his gloves, removed the ring from the box, and slipped it onto her trembling ring finger. Then he smiled into her tear-streaked face and kissed her again with all the promise that was held in that ring.

Lying naked under the covers, Cristian and Layla both struggled to catch their breaths. After they had gotten off of their knees on the Eiffel Tower, they'd immediately gone back to their hotel suite and celebrated the moments of their lives. After several seconds, Cristian rolled off of her, not wanting to crush his child, and continued breathing air into his lungs as he pulled Layla to his side.

Staring at her left hand while in the crook of his arm, Layla finally admired her ring. It had been too dark to really see it on the Tower and it was still too dark on the ride back to the hotel, and when they'd gotten back to their room, studying the ring took a back seat to other activities. It was gorgeous. Large but not gaudy. Layla did not do gaudy. It had to have cost him a pretty penny. A large square diamond flanked by smaller diamond side stones around the platinum band decorated her finger. It was absolutely perfect. Mesmerizing. And she was so glad she loved it because her fingers were swollen and the ring wasn't about to come back off.

"You sure you really like it? You're not just saying you do like you do when I show you some of my pieces?" Cristian smiled and stretched out his neck slightly to kiss her on the forehead.

"I love it." She twisted to look into his face. "And I never lie about your work."

"Right."

Layla laughed. "I don't!"

"Okay." Cristian rolled his eyes.

Layla returned her attention to the ring. "It's beautiful. It's perfect..." She stared at it some more in silence. "Did you pick this out by yourself?"

"I had a little help. Adriana shopped around with me."

Layla lifted her head and looked at him. "She knew? And she didn't tell me?! Oh we are going to box when I get home!"

Cristian smiled. "Hey, you did the same thing with Luis, didn't you?"

_Oh yeah. I did._ A _my bad_ expression crossed her features and she settled back down against his side, index finger circling his right nipple. "So when are we going to do this?" She hoped his answer wouldn't be, "Oh, we can take our time, get everything right." But then she remembered he was just like her. All about living in the moment. Living life.

"I think I'm going to leave that up to you, _mi corazon_. If it were up to me, I'd marry you tomorrow."

Layla stopped her nipple circling and lifted her head, looking into his eyes. "Me too." Her expression was soft. "I can't wait to be your wife."

Cristian lifted his right hand and stroked her face, his voice deepening with emotion. "I can't wait to be your husband."

Layla continued to stare into his soft eyes. They looked hazel at this angle. Then her lips curled into a smile. "Let's do it, then."

"What? Get married tomorrow???"

"Yeah."

"Are you serious?"

"Weren't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I was, but...what about our family?"

"We can do another ceremony when we get home later. This will be just for us." Layla sucked in her bottom lip, gauging his reaction. This was the love of her life. _The_ love of her life. And she couldn't wait to make it official. She didn't need all the fittings and the trimmings like she used to dream about. Or the flowing white gown and veil. Three hundred of their closest friends and family intruding on the moment they committed their spirits to one another's. All she needed was him. She had never believed in the whole soulmate spiel before. Thought it was a lot of bullshit perpetuated by romantic comedies and series finales of tv shows. But that was before she experienced the all-consuming, nearly paralyzing, completely soul-quavering love of Cristian Vega. Artist. Lover. Friend. Everything in Heather Headley's "He Is." ...Man. _My soulmate._ "What do you think?"

Cristian studied her for several moments. _Layla...My wife._ It sounded right. It felt right. It _was_ right. And far from being too soon, it wasn't soon enough for him. This was the woman God sent to make a family with him. The woman who loved him unconditionally. The woman who said he was her life and proved it everyday with all of her actions. All of her words. The woman who promised she would never leave him. The one woman he knew he would not be able to get over. Not ever. No matter how hard he tried. He made a decision. "I think we're getting married tomorrow."

"Yeah?" She grinned like a Chesire cat.

"Yeah."

Layla giggled as he flipped her over and nuzzled her neck, reaching down to pull the covers back over their heads.

Cristian held his wife's hand as they got ready to land just outside of Llanview. They were both exhausted and beyond ready to settle down into their new life together after an extremely hectic week. _Extremely_ hectic, considering they'd returned to Llanview by way of Puerto Rico. The residency requirements of French law--as they'd suspected much later that night after they'd worn each other out--had prevented them from marrying in Paris. Originally intending to stay the rest of the week in the city after Cristian's initial business was finished Tuesday of that week, they'd changed their plans and decided to tie the knot in Cristian's homeland, where they were married on a warm, secluded, white sandy beach at sunset by one of Cristian's bilingual friends, two of his cousins from his father's side serving as witnesses. It was truly more beautiful than Layla could have imagined, especially on such short notice. The scenery, the perfect weather, the privacy...the groom. Just like in one of those romantic comedies and series finales.

Although the language barrier pretty much put a muzzle on Layla's self-described motor mouth--it made her crazy not being able to speak for herself to make a (hopefully) good impression on his family--she managed to leave the island with her sanity intact, telling Cristian they would have to return for a longer stay later that year so his extended family could meet their newest member after it was born.

"They liked you. Said you were _muy encantadora y bella._

"Cris, I've had _more than enough_ with the Spanish for awhile so throw some English in my ear, okay? Por favor?"

He laughed out loud. "See? You're picking some up. You're going to be trilingual in no time, _mi novia_."

"Trilingual? I _told_ you I only took it in high school and a couple years in college. And you're sitting there in Paris expecting me to do some French monologue or something!"

"Hey, I still think you did pretty good when we were lost that one time."

"Right...Look. Look at that!" She pointed to his eyes. "See? You can't even look me in the eye."

Cristian laughed again. She knew him so well. Trying to stifle his laughter, he stammered, "The way they were looking at you when you were trying to explain--"

She hit him in the bicep that was closest to her.

"Owww!" He continued trying to stifle his laugh.

"You better sleep with one eye open, buster."

Finally catching his breath after several moments, Cristian decided to change the subject. "Hey." He grabbed her hand. "You ready to lay the bomb on everybody?" He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Oh, you finished making fun of me now?"

He kissed her hand again. "I was just joking. I love everything that comes out of your mouth. French, too."

"Mmm-hmmm. Whatever." She sighed, trying to keep from smiling. "Anyway, I'm ready. Are you?"

"Ready to shout it from the rooftops." He turned to her and smiled.

Layla smiled back at her husband. Her sweet, fine as hell husband. _Husband. Cristian is my husband. Life is such a trip sometimes._ "Any regrets?"

Piercing her eyes with his gaze, he answered. "Never."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, baby. Are you back home? How was it?"

"It was really nice. _Really_ nice..." Layla hesitated. She had to tell her mother she was a married woman eventually but she didn't want to hear it. _"What????? You got married???? Layla, what were you thinking????"_ She didn't want to hear it at all.

"That's wonderful. I've always wanted to go somewhere in Europe. I'm glad you got the chance."

"Yeah. You really should go, Mom. You would love it. It's beautiful. Just go when it's warmer. I should've brought my thermals..." Layla shifted on the couch, thinking a paid trip would make a great Mother's Day gift this year as she tried to get more comfortable. She swore she gained five hundred pounds since Christmas. She had finally had to hit up the maternity section a couple of weeks before their Paris trip. _Craze_ needed to tackle maternity wear. She was going to work on it soon. There were some cute and sexy designs out there and Layla was determined not to be caught dead without one on. It had, however, been a little difficult keeping one on at home. The more her belly--and breasts--grew, the sexier her husband was finding her. And, hell, she always found him sexy.

"You always hated thermal underwear. I could never get you to wear them without a fuss when you were little."

Layla laughed. "I remember. They always itch. I probably left them here on purpose."

"Mmm-hmmm. I know you."

When a comfortable silence formed between them, Layla took a deep breath and went for it. "Um, Mom?"

"Hmmm?"

Layla's face scrunched up as spoke, not really wanting to say it while dreading her mother's reaction. "Um...While we were up there, Cris asked me to marry him."

"I know."

Layla damn near dropped the phone. _The hell?_ "What?" she managed to choke out.

Lisa smiled slightly on the other end of the phone. "Cristian. He called me before you left and asked for my permission."

Layla finally closed her mouth enough to form some words. "He did? When? Where was I?" She knew she was nosey and always absolutely had to have the details. But she didn't care.

"I don't know, Layla. It was a week before you left I think."

Well, her mother had certainly told her something she hadn't known. She was surprised but she wasn't really. Cristian was a gentleman through and through. Her father would have loved him. After he got over the whole sister factor, that is. But, damn. Her mother was a shock. She actually gave her permission? _I am in the damn Twilight Zone. Do do do do, do do do do..._

"So did you two set a date? I know you didn't turn him down..."

Okay. So now it was her turn to lay one on her mother. Again. She swallowed. "Um. January 19th 2008." She waited for her mother's reaction. Today was January 22, 2008. They had married on Saturday, flown home Sunday, Layla had put off telling her mother on Monday, and now it was Tuesday.

"You mean 2009."

"No, I mean 2008." She waited for it.

"Layla...What did you do?" There it was.

"I got married."

"Layla, you already got married???" Lisa sighed heavily and told herself to be happy for her daughter.

"Yes." Layla cringed again, waiting for the rest of it.

"Well, congratulations, honey."

_Congratulations???_ Layla was temporarily dumbfounded again. "Um, thanks, Mom." _What the hell is this?_

"I mean it. I'm glad you're happy, sweetheart. That's really all that matters." She was happy. She would come looking for Cristian, Louisville slugger in tow if he ever hurt her child, but she was glad her daughter was happy.

But once again, she knew she couldn't tell her. She couldn't tell her now. Ruin her honeymoon. She was happy. And in love. And Lisa definitely remembered that feeling. But she had to tell her soon. She couldn't let it go on. It had been twenty-seven years. _Twenty-seven_ years. What if something happened during the birth and Layla needed something only her biological father could give her? What if the baby needed something from the same source? She understood Cristian's father had passed. How could she let her grandchild grow up without knowing a single grandfather when he or she had one out there somewhere? God, she should've told Layla. She and James should have told her. They had thought it would be best at the time not to tell her. She would have a loving father and a loving mother and that was all that mattered. Blood wasn't everything. It wasn't. But, dammit, they should've told her. She had a right to know. She should've known a long time ago.

Layla continued to chat a little with her mother, never having heard herself called so many "babys" "honeys" and "sweethearts" by her mother before in her life. Her mother was acting strange, very strange. And she was beginning to think something was wrong.

"Okaaaaay...Are you sure you want to know?" The ultrasound technician smiled as she asked her patient and her husband who looked at each other excitedly and then back at her.

Layla nodded and squeezed Cristian's hand tighter. "I don't think we can wait any longer." She took a deep breath. "Lay it on us." She bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

"Okay...This angle is perfect."

Layla and Cristian watched their baby on the monitor, waiting for the technician to tell them what they were having.

"Okay...I'd get ready to buy pink. Congratulations, you guys. She's going to be a beauty."

Cristian and Layla looked at each other again, nothing but teeth between them. "A girl...We're having a baby girl. You were right, Beautiful." Cristian leaned over and kissed his wife on her forehead.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Layla grinned triumphantly and laughed.

He shook his head. "Oh. Never, never." He smiled at her again. He was going to have a daughter. And she was going to be as beautiful inside and out as her mother. Which meant he was going to have to get ready for all the boys who were going to come knocking on their door. All of whom's asses he was probably going to have to kick. If he were having a boy, he would only have to worry about one penis. Now he was going to have to worry about hundreds of millions of them. But he was going to be ready. He would always be there for her. To love her and protect her with his life. He would never let his daughter down. Never.

"Oh, I hope she won't be like me! I was constantly getting into trouble." She squeezed her husband's hand again. "You're going to have your hands full, buster."

He smiled softly. "And I can't wait."

Layla pulled Cristian's hand to her chest as the technician cleaned up around her and looked at him. She hoped her grandmother's friend was going to be right. That her daughter would be just like her father. Cristian was so laid-back, so easygoing. So amazingly creative and talented. So selfless and caring. So resilient and strong. She couldn't think of a single trait of his that she wouldn't want her daughter to have.

Cristian shook his head in wonderment before looking down again at his wife. "I can't wait to meet her, Layla."

She smiled. "I can't wait either. We're halfway there. Twenty more weeks and we can finally hold her." She thought back to the night their daughter was conceived, amazed at where they were today. She was so happy. So incredibly happy. There was nothing better than this. This was what life was all about. Only one thing missing. One person. She sighed as her heart sank in her chest. She probably needed to accept it. In a few months it will have been a year. An entire year. Her sister wasn't coming back.

Layla awoke from a sound sleep, a strange feeling overcoming her that things weren't quite right. She placed her hands over her belly, her heart suddenly pounding. _Is it the baby?_ All felt normal inside of her. She turned and looked to her right. The bed was empty. Then she turned and looked in the direction of the attached bathroom. The light wasn't on. She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It read 2:38. Still sensing something was wrong, she rose from the bed and out of their bedroom. Not a single light was turned on in the house. _Where is he?_

She turned the light on in the living room and began looking around when she felt the cold hit her. It was coming from the patio. The door was open. _Oh shit. Did somebody break in?_ Had Cristian stumbled upon the intruder and gotten hurt again? _Oh, God, please no. No._ Swallowing, Layla slowly crept toward the patio door, the cold winter wind cutting her face, terrified at what she might find on the small patio.

A foot away from the open door, she stopped. There he was. "Cris? What the hell are you doing?" He was standing with his back to her, looking out at...something. And he was in his pajamas. In the middle of winter. At night. Nothing but pajamas. "Cris?" He wasn't answering her. Didn't move. "Cristian?" It was cold as hell but she soon stopped noticing. Taking a step outside of the door, she called his name again, her voice straining with worry, the most disturbing aura sweeping over her. "Cris!" She was hoping the feeling was nothing. But her gut was always right. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong with her husband.

He was starting to scare her. She was a foot away from him now, her voice becoming a whisper. "Cris?" She stood at his side and looked into his face. He wasn't there. He was staring straight ahead at something. But there was nothing there. Cautiously, she reached out a trembling hand towards his shoulder, the cold beginning to resurface and rattle her bones as Cristian's behavior more than rattled her nerves. When she touched him and called his name again, he still didn't move. And he was cold. So cold.

Layla swallowed again. Why wasn't he answering her? What was wrong with him? What was wrong? "Cris, can we go inside? Please?" She tugged on his arm. "Please? Let's-let's go inside." She fought to keep her voice from breaking. She didn't know what to do. Something was terribly wrong and she didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know what it was. He wouldn't budge. She tried his name again, willing him to hear her. "Cris, please...Come on."

She froze as he finally turned his head to face her. At first, there was nothing. Then she watched as recognition slowly filtered through his eyes. "Let's go inside, okay?" She watched as he eventually nodded his head slowly before leading him back into the house. Silently, she led him over to the couch where he sat, rigid as a board. Layla walked back to the patio door and closed it, her extremities tingling as they began to thaw in the well-heated condo, her heart still in her throat. When she turned back to face him, his body was slightly relaxed as he leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, his head down. She walked back over to the couch and sat next to him, feeling his body tremble violently as it finally reacted to the cold he'd subjected it to. His face and hands were pale and his teeth were chattering. How long had he been out there? Without a word, Layla went to the closet in the hall and grabbed the heaviest quilt she had, immediately wrapping it around her husband before going to the kitchen to quickly microwave some water for some tea or hot chocolate. She didn't know which. Her body moved without her mind to direct it. Her mind was still stuck on what she had just witnessed.

As she stood watching the seconds go by on the microwave LCD, she didn't notice Cristian enter the kitchen, leaning against the entryway.

"I'm okay, Layla." She jumped when she heard his voice. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just..." He shook his head slightly and looked down. "Needed some air."

The microwave beeped as _Enjoy your meal_ scrolled along the display. She couldn't believe him. She could not freaking believe him. _"I'm okay, Layla." Who the hell is he trying kid?_ "Don't give me that, Cristian." She felt her anger at him rising. He had just scared her to death and had the nerve to tell her he was okay. She pointed towards the patio. "What was that? What the hell was that? You-you were standing out there in below-zero weather looking like you'd just seen a ghost and you didn't even know I was there for five minutes! You scared the shit out of me and you're trying to tell me it was nothing?!"

"Layla...I...It was just a bad dream. I needed to clear my head--"

"Yeah. You needed to clear your head so you go outside in the middle of winter with no clothes on and you don't hear me calling you for ten minutes. Okay. Fine." She was fuming at him and scared for him at the same time. "You know? It's all starting to make sense to me now. Why you've been staying the night at your studio because you were--" she did the quotations gesture with her fingers "--working late." She watched for his reaction. He didn't meet her eyes. He never met her eyes when he couldn't tell her the truth. "How long have they been back, Cristian?"

He was having difficulty focusing. His body was on overload. It was working overtime trying to warm up, trying to shake off the nightmare which really wasn't. Because nightmares were figments of the imagination. What he'd just seen happened. All of it. And he felt the pain all over again. He felt the fear, he felt the anger. He felt them breaking him down. Breaking him down slowly but surely. And he felt the anger at himself for letting them. "Layla..." His head was pounding so hard he felt lightheaded.

"What's wrong with you, Cristian? I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on."

"Layla...I promise. I'm--I'm fine. I'm going to be fine. This is just...It'll pass. I promise."

"_What is wrong_???!!!" He was not doing this again. He was not going to pull that "macho man, I can handle everything myself" crap with her now. Not a chance.

He felt like he was going to pass out. He leaned against the panel separating the kitchen from the living room. He was still there but he wasn't. "Layla...I can't."

"You can't what???"

"I can't!!" _Dammit!_ He didn't mean to yell. Not at her. Never at her. "I'm sorry...I just can't do this right now." He felt like he was going to throw up. He needed to sit down. He needed to lie down. He needed the replays to stop. He needed them to stop now.

Layla stood still, nodding her head to herself as she watched him stumble over to the couch, trying to fight the tears. Trying. He was shutting her out. She had never been on the outside looking in with him before. And she didn't like it. She didn't want to let this go right now. Like this. It wasn't in her nature to accept this kind of defeat. She hated letting things fester, letting them boil over until there was nothing but disaster left. But she knew him. He looked as though some invisible walls were closing in around him and she didn't want to be one of them. He was dealing with something he just wasn't ready to talk about. It had to be the same thing he was dealing with just before Christmas. Had to be. But he couldn't keep going like this. Not dealing with whatever was causing him so much pain. She knew he hated showing any kind of weakness. Always had to be strong for everyone. But now he needed someone to be strong for him. Her. His wife. They were in this life together and she would get him to recognize and know that she was strong enough for both of them if it was the last thing she did.

Forgetting about the hot water in the microwave, she silently joined him again on the couch, watching him regain control over his emotions.

He looked at his hands before glancing in her direction, his voice quiet and low. Defeated. "You should go back to bed, Beautiful." He turned back to look at his hands.

"I can't. Not without you."

He turned to look at her again. She was serious. He would have to try. He would have to try and sleep so she could sleep. She needed the rest. Just as he was about to nod and rise from the couch, she spoke.

"When I can't sleep, I like to put the tv on mute and turn on some soft music." She knew he didn't want to go back to sleep and didn't want to force him when he wasn't ready. "You know, something to keep your eyes busy and your ears busy so you stop thinking about not being able to sleep. And then eventually it comes to you." She reached over to the end table and grabbed the remote, turning the television on. Then, she rose from the couch and popped Corinne Bailey Rae into the cd player--she'd bought it for the "Breathless" song--and flipped the light switch off. Then, she went to the kitchen to get herself a cold glass of water and him some hot chocolate before returning to the couch and snuggling into Cristian's side, grateful that he was relaxing as he slowly put his arm around her.

He knew what she was doing. And he was grateful. He was feeling like his life was spiraling out of control. After he had finally found some peace. He wasn't about to take her and his daughter down with him. He had to get it together. Before he lost everything again.

"So, how are things going?" Adriana took a bite out of the celery and peanut butter she was munching on in the Vega kitchen, the concern evident in her eyes and in her voice.

"I don't know what to do. He still won't tell me what's wrong." Layla walked over to the sink and placed her cup in it before sighing heavily and turning around.

"Have you talked to Antonio?" Adriana shrugged. "Maybe he's been talking to him..."

"He should be talking to me!" Layla took a deep breath and tried to calm down, shaking her head in the process. "I don't think so. I don't want to ask his mother because I know he wouldn't want her to worry."

"Cris...he's never been a complainer. Everything that happens to him, he just shrugs it off and keeps it moving. Paints about it, whatever..." Adriana shook her head and sighed. "I couldn't do that. He just doesn't like to worry people."

"I know..." Layla looked at her friend carefully before continuing. "Hey, Adriana..."

Adriana turned from her food and looked at her. "Hmm?"

"Has he ever talked to anybody about what happened to him? That year he was missing?" She watched as Adriana's eyes looked downward as she thought.

"I don't think so, Layla." Her eyes registered even deeper concern than before. "He's never said anything to me about it and the last I knew, Antonio didn't know anything either. I doubt he's told Tia Carlotta. And I really don't think he told Natalie...There's your sister. He might have told her. Maybe." She looked at her friend. "You think that's what it is, don't you?"

"What else could it be? You just...You just didn't see him those couple times. He was..." Layla shook her head, not wanting to delve into it again. "And he's still not sleeping much. I know because _I'm_ not sleeping much worrying about _him_ not sleeping much."

The garage door opening signaled the end to that conversation. About a minute later, Cristian entered the condo. It had been two weeks since Layla had found him on the patio. The lack of sleep was beginning to wear on his face. And his temperament. Sighing heavily, he walked over to his wife and cousin. "Hey guys."

"Hey."

"Hey."

After kissing Layla hello, he leaned down and touched her belly. "Hey, _mija_." He reached into the cabinet and retrieved a plastic cup before heading over to the refrigerator to pour something to drink. "What are you two up to?" he asked casually.

Adriana answered. "Just talking. Hey did you hear about that accident off of I-79? At first I thought it was you because the car involved was a silver Audi just like yours."

"No, I hadn't heard. I've been trying to finish this damn piece--" Cristian glanced at Layla, who suddenly clutched her belly, a strange look on her face. "Hey, what's wrong?" His eyes immediately widened with fear and his heart began to race.

"No, no, I'm fine, it's just..." A smile suddenly crossed Layla's features. "I think she just kicked me. It was weird, but..."

Cristian stepped over to his wife's side and placed his left hand over her belly, his right across her lower back, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. "Really? Are you feeling it again yet?"

She shook her head. "Mmm-mm. It's funny. It's like I started feeling it after you told her hi."

Cristian smiled at this. "Really?"

"Yeah...She's not even out yet and she's already a Daddy's girl!"

He laughed. "I have a way with the ladies, what can I say?" He chuckled some more as she smirked at him.

"Oh, please." Adriana rolled her eyes.

"Ooh, wait. Wait. Feel that?" Layla positioned Cristian's hand on her stomach and watched his face light up for the first time in weeks.

"I think I felt something..." His smile lit up his eyes. "Definitely a Williamson in there."

Layla eyed him curiously. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're always hitting me. Kicking, biting, pushing, throwing..."

She caught him in the bicep.

"See?"

"See nothing. You are not right." She chuckled. "You had that one coming."

He smiled back to her tiredly on his way out of the kitchen. "I always do."

Adriana and Layla looked after him as he left. Adriana leaned over and placed her hand on her friend's forearm. "Everything's going to be okay, girl. He's made it through so much, he'll get through whatever this is. I know it."

Layla only nodded. Maybe it was the lack of sleep getting to her but she wasn't so sure. Cristian had to be the strongest person she knew outside of her father. But he wasn't a superhero. Everybody had their breaking point. It was what separated man from higher beings. Sighing, she placed her hands across her stomach as she noticed. Little Miss Vega had stopped moving as soon as her daddy left the room.

"I have to go to the bathroom. Again." Layla sighed heavily as she frowned. She definitely did not want to go here--it looked and felt like a gas station from _Deliverance_, but mother nature was calling. She was seriously hating this aspect of pregnancy. Water went right through her with no stops in between.

Cristian, wearing black slacks and a burgundy dress shirt--the black suit jacket in the back seat--got out of the driver's side of the car and walked over to the passenger side to help his wife from the car. The bigger she got, the more difficult she was finding it to get out of his low-riding sports car. "Uh, You want me to go inside with you?" He looked toward the gas station store and frowned. _Looks like a gas station from_ Deliverance. They were on their way back home from Layla's friend Kandice's mother's funeral. It was a two-and-a-half hour drive from Llanview to the small town where Kandice's mother was buried, and they were still about 30 miles from home when Cristian figured he'd better stop and get some gas before they ended up stranded somewhere out in the boonies. His gas light had come on about five miles back--he'd cursed himself for forgetting to fill up back when they were in some semblance of civilization after the funeral. His sleep-deprived mind had been elsewhere no matter how much he tried to focus on the present. And there was no telling when they would run across another gas station on the way. He hated country road traveling. Country was cool but country road traveling sucked.

"Um, I guess I'll be okay. Just hurry up and fill up so we can get the hell out of here."

"I heard that." He would watch her inside the small store from the car while he pumped the gas.

She felt the clerk's eyes on her as she approached the door. She was wearing a black, belly hugging dress that stopped just before her knees. _The hell is he staring at?_ Deciding to ignore him when she really wanted to ask what the hell he was looking at, Layla searched the small store for the ladies' restroom. Seeing it, she headed towards it, briefly hating that she'd left her purse in the car. Her purse with the mace inside. She hadn't gotten very far when she heard him call out to her.

"Uh, where you goin'?" He rounded the counter and headed in her direction.

Cristian saw him approach as he was on his way inside the store. The pump was pre-pay only and the credit card reader didn't work. Of course.

She couldn't help it. The attitude came out. Dude was already starting to piss her off. "Uh, to the bathroom." She tried to continue on her way when she felt him grab her left arm. He didn't grab her very hard. But he had no business grabbing her at all.

"You aint usin' that bathroom." He looked her up and down disgustedly.

She yanked her arm from his grasp and was reflexively about to get into his face. Racist motherfucker. _About_ to get in his face. She didn't quite have the chance as she felt a huge rush of Cool Water by Davidoff-smelling air blow by her. _Oh, shit. Where'd he come from?_ She thought Cristian was busy filling up the car so they could get home and she could argue with him again about taking a Benadryl or something so he could get some sleep before she got him to talk to her about his nightmares. _Oh good Lord._ Sleep. Her husband hadn't been getting much lately. And this poor fool was about to learn all about pissing off a man going on little to no sleep.

"Hey! You putting your hands on my wife, you son of a bitch?!" The red-faced clerk caught one across his face. "Huh?! You fucking wanna--" Another one, this time from Cristian's left. "--put your hands on my wife?!" The poor bastard was on the floor now. But Cristian wasn't finished. He grabbed him by the collar, picked him up off the floor, then threw him against the wall. Layla swore the whole building shook from the force.

_Lord, I just wanted to go to the bathroom._ Layla stood out of the way, hoping her husband would calm down. Soon. _Please, soon._ She didn't want any more trouble befalling him. Especially now, when he was dealing with so much and was only defending her. Thick accent and all.

But he still wasn't done. The clerk caught some more to his ribs against the wall before he crumpled to the floor. A lot more. Then Cristian picked him up from the floor again and threw him against the opposite wall, seeing his wife out of the corner of his eye, through his rage. Breathing fast and furious as the adrenaline rushed through him, he spoke again, his voice menacingly calm and low. "You fucking touch her again," he dared him.

_Okay, Cristian, let's get the hell out of here._ Layla looked around and outside, hoping no one was coming. This little tiny ass hick town, she knew they were pretty much safe. Cristian did not need assault charges. Not in this little town.

Eyes blazing, Cristian stared down at the bastard who had the nerve to manhandle his obviously pregnant wife like some little fucker with no home training and a problem with beautiful, strong black women. Trying to calm himself down, he walked over to Layla and rubbed his hand up and down her arm, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Can we just go? I'll hold it."

Instead of heading towards the door, Cristian took her by the arm and led her over to the bathroom. "Go ahead and use it." He looked over at the clerk. "I'll be right here."

"Okay. Hey." She raised her hand to his cheek and met his eyes. "Are you cool?"

He nodded and took her hand from his face, turning back to the clerk as Layla entered the bathroom. Walking back over to him, Cristian stopped at his side. "Get up. I need to pay for some gas."

The man turned cold, watery eyes on him. _Fuckin' Mexican_. He slowly rose from the floor, pissed and embarrassed as hell. He had a mind to tell him to take a hike and get his gas somewheres else. But, he didn't. He needed to recover from the last beating. Silently, he walked behind the counter, trying not to hold his abdomen as it hurt like hell to walk. He felt like he'd just been in the ring and wasn't given the mercy of a knock out. Broken ribs and all.

Cristian laid a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. "Ten." That ought to at least get them home. He wasn't about to give him more than that.

After he was given his change, he waited for Layla to exit the bathroom. When she did, he took her by the arm and led her through the door and to the car, opening her door and closing it after she was seated. Then, he pumped ten dollars' worth of gas, trying not to think about what he would have done had he not seen her at that moment. And scared to death he had shown her the last thing he ever wanted to show her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"I'm sorry, Layla."

Layla turned to look at Cristian, a curious expression on her face. "About what?"

"Back there." They had been back on the country road for about five minutes, riding in silence.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"I lost it. A little bit. Back there...I don't want you to think--" He hesitated. "I don't want you to think that I would ever--"

"Wait a minute. You don't think--" She shifted in her seat and turned her body in his direction as he continued to watch the road. "You think you scared me or something back there?" She looked at him incredulously, surprised he would even entertain such a thought. "Cristian! If you hadn't kicked his ass I would have! You think I was going to let him grab on me like that??" She watched him swallow as he continued to focus on the road.

He couldn't help it. He couldn't help but think about the last time he lost his cool. He should have kept his thoughts from going there. If he wasn't so physically and mentally exhausted, they wouldn't have. Layla was nothing like her sister.

"Why would you think that?" She asked him softly.

He shook his head and turned to glance at her before resuming his concentration on the road. "Nothing. I just...I lose my temper sometimes and I don't ever want you to think I would hurt you. Ever."

A pained expression crossed Layla's features as she stared at him. She took his right hand from the steering wheel and held it in her lap as she faced forward again and stared out at the road ahead of them. She couldn't believe he would think she would think that. All he did was defend her. She would've looked at him funny if he _hadn't_ tried to protect her. It was so irrational for him to make that leap from keeping some bastard's hands off of her to hurting her himself. Why was he thinking that way? "Cristian, I have never in a million years thought you would hurt me, okay? Not tonight, not ever. But I swear I will hurt _you_ if you ever say something like that to me again." She turned her head to face him and saw him nod his head almost imperceptibly.

He wouldn't let her see the relief wash over him. He was so on edge right now he was scared to death of losing her. She was his only calm in the storm as his mind continued to conjure up his tortured past. His own personal hell on earth. He knew he would never hurt her. He knew it. But he was losing control over his thoughts. And his temper. And he wasn't being fair to her, keeping his problems to himself. He knew she was strong and would understand and try to help. But he wasn't ready. He couldn't bring himself to tell her or anyone else what happened to him. It just made it too real. Like the dreams. And he already couldn't handle the dreams. Validating that chapter in his life by letting anyone else in on the nightmare after all of these years of never having to deal with it terrified him.

Layla leaned against the bathroom door as Cristian finished brushing his teeth clad only in his red pajama bottoms. She had Whitney Houston's greatest hits playing in their bedroom cd player. One of her favorite songs had just started-- "All The Man That I Need." It always put her in the mood. Whitney sang that song about Cristian Vega. Period. In spite of everything going on, her husband could still turn her on just by doing the simplest of tasks. His ever-lengthening curly hair was just beginning to dry and she watched as he brought his towel to his face, biceps rippling from the slight movement. His gold chain with the cross was nestled comfortably between his pecs, the light from the vanity reflecting off of it. Going to hang the towel on the towel rack, he finally noticed her watching him. And his look made her toes curl without even trying. She still couldn't believe he had thought she was scared of him. Of _him_. It was unfathomable.

She continued to hold his gaze. They hadn't been intimate in weeks. His stress and her worry about his lack of sleep had prevented even the thought, bringing about a premature end to their honeymoon. But not tonight. Tonight he was going to be so tired and peacefully content his mind would let him sleep through the night and into the next morning after she was finished. She would wait until he was asleep and turn off his alarm clock and hers. Her body usually woke her up in time for work without it anyway but she wanted Cristian to sleep until his body was good and ready for him to get up. No alarms. No phone calls. She made a mental note to turn off the ringer on their bedroom phone also.

Without a word, Layla walked over into Cristian's space and raised her right hand to his cheek, looking up deeply into his eyes. He still looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Following her hand with her eyes, she slid it down his face, his neck, and his chest and abdomen before sticking her index finger teasingly into his belly button. Then she slid her hand further downward just underneath the waistband of his pants when his hand suddenly stopped hers. Quickly bringing her eyes back to his face, she saw an even deeper desire for her. She knew what his stopping her meant: he wanted to be in control. So she decided to let him. For now.

He dropped her hand and stepped forward, bending slightly to press his lips against hers, immediately parting them. He was hungry. Voracious. She soon needed oxygen but he wouldn't release her mouth. She had to take short, stifled breaths whenever she could until he finally allowed her to fill her lungs. He was so hot for her already he would have taken her against the bathroom wall if not for her expanding belly. Instead, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms, leaving the bathroom and heading towards their bed. He sat her on the edge and then sat down next to her, massaging her inner thigh while leaning across her body and capturing her lips and tongue again. Her heart pounded even more as she felt his hand move further up her thigh and underneath her panties. She was already more than wet for him. She whimpered as he expertly guided his thick fingers over her most sensitive spot and in and out of her repeatedly. That sound always drove him wild. He broke their kiss and looked into her face as he continued, watching her reaction. "Mmmmm. Cris." She threw her head back and moaned. He never failed to hit her spot and show her new ones.

He pulled his fingers from underneath her panties and got on his knees in front of her, sliding his hands underneath her butt to lift her slightly and remove her underwear. Tossing them on the floor, he lifted her left leg over his shoulder, planting kisses from her foot all the way up her leg until he reached the sweetest spot he would ever know. Flicking his tongue across her clitoris mercilessly until she was panting, he plunged it within her, her taste and scent making him throb until he could barely take it anymore.

Layla dug her fingers into the mattress at her sides to keep from grabbing his head. "Cris...Cris! Oh shit! Shit!...Oh God! Oh my God!!" She cried out as she finally fell back onto the bed and was done for. She saw stars, stripes, firecrackers, and lollipops. It was always so intense she wondered why it didn't kill her. But what a way to go it would have been. He took in every drop of her essence as she released herself and her body shook. While she gasped for air and tried to recover, he slid her leg off his shoulder, got off of his knees and left the bedroom without a word. In her delirium, she halfheartedly wondered where he was going. Less than two minutes later, he was back, a glass of cold water in his hand. Settling on the bed next to her reclined form, he leaned down on his left elbow, drink in his right hand, and studied her face. She looked at him while her breathing continued to even out. How could one man be so fine. So sexy. So hers.

"I brought you some water. You sounded thirsty." His voice was husky and deeper than usual. It always sounded that way when he was calculating his next sexual move.

She continued to stare into his heated eyes. Finding her voice, she replied, "Thank you." And she didn't just mean for the glass of water. He helped her from her reclined position and handed her the glass of water. She took a long, hungry sip while never breaking eye contact with him. Handing the glass back, she watched as he leaned over and placed it on the nightstand before returning his attention to her. "Is it my turn yet?"

He licked his bottom lip briefly and went for her lips again, tongue ending the ceasefire with hers and bringing the duel back to full hilt. It was noisy. Wet. Ferocious. Then he broke away and looked into her eyes. "No." The sexiest denial she had ever heard. He got off the bed and removed his pajama pants and boxer briefs. The sight of him in all his male glory made her ache and her recently lubricated throat became bone dry once again. The man was a verifiable Puerto Rican Greek god. He stood in front of her and lifted her gown over her head, her glowing pregnant body making him forget all about the hell he was finding himself in. There was only her right now. His wife. She scooted back towards the center of the bed as he immediately followed, anchoring himself on his elbows on top of her to make room for her stomach and positioning his pulsating member at her entrance. There was nothing else but her. Nothing else. He kissed her senseless again and felt her pull on his arms, telling him she was ready for him. Impatient himself, he decided not to tease her any longer and slowly slipped into her hot canal, always mindful of his size. It was home. A perfect fit. He reacquainted himself for several seconds before he began drilling, each thrust inching deeper inside of her. He grunted and moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, her tight walls stripping him of all coherent thought. He picked up the pace. He went faster. Harder. He took her higher. With him. Harder and faster. She was almost there. Almost there with him. Her swearing and loud cries of pleasure told him so. His ears were ringing, sweat pooling in his collarbone. It was now. It was explosive. He couldn't catch his breath. He collapsed on top of her, his arms like wet noodles no longer able to hold him up.

It was her second time. And even better than the first. Maybe that time it had killed her because she was in heaven.

Two hours later, three or four times later, Layla lay in her husband's arms, the thin sheet covering their naked bodies. He always held her after they made love and she struggled to get out of his grasp without waking him up. But she hadn't needed to worry. He was knocked out. Sleeping so deeply she swore she could hear some soft snoring sounds coming from him and he never snored. She turned off his alarm clock on his side of the bed and her own, and turned off the ringer on the phone. Their cells were also turned off. After she climbed back into the bed, she looked at him sleeping peacefully and silently asked God to keep him that way until late the next morning. Or, better yet, late the next afternoon. Then she closed her eyes and instantly fell asleep, her own body spent from the funeral, the gas station incident, and the fierce and profound lovemaking with her husband.

"Hey."

"Hey. Are you on your way?" Layla spoke into the phone resting on her shoulder while she shuffled some papers into her briefcase at her desk. She was running late. _Of course._

"Yeah. I'm about ten minutes away." Cristian cradled his cell phone between his right shoulder and his ear, a cup of black coffee in his right hand, his left on the steering wheel. _What the...? Dammit!_ "Shit!" He sighed explosively and pounded his left fist on the steering wheel, almost spilling his coffee. It would have spilled if not for the plastic lid. "What the fuck?! People do not know how to _fucking_ drive around here!!"

Layla winced and took the phone away from her ear. He was loud. And beyond cranky. Cristian could be the sweetest, calmest, most patient man on earth normally but he was constantly on edge lately. She had finally gotten him to sleep through the night a week ago after the funeral following some physical activity, but he was so far behind on sleep, it didn't seem to make much of a difference. But he _had_ slept so she had gotten him in the mood almost every night since then even though sex with her husband was beginning to lose its appeal as it was turning into a self-made obligation. Not to mention it was less comfortable with the bowling ball she was carrying around her midsection. And she was so tired herself afterwards, she slept so hard she didn't know if he was waking up in the middle of the night or not. "What is it?"

Cristian took a deep breath and put his coffee cup in the cup holder. "Sorry. Somebody just cut me off." He needed to breathe. He needed to breathe and calm down before he picked his mother-in-law up at the airport while Layla attended her mandatory business meeting.

She sighed. "Okay, well, I gotta go. I'm already late. Good luck with my mother."

"Layla, your mom's fine. We get along great."

"Hmpf. For now." She shook her head. "Something's up with her. Okay. I need to go. I love you. Be careful." And she meant that last part. Road rage was not a joke.

"Love you, too. _Adios._"

"Bye."

"I bought these for you, too. Babies love having these to chew on when they're teething."

_Teething?_ "Mother! She's not even here yet. You're buying teething stuff already? There's plenty of time." This was starting to drive her nuts. Something was off with her mother. The impromptu trip to Llanview with only a few days' notice. The extra sweet behavior. Calling Cristian her son since all she had were girls. Buying a boatload of baby items when Cristian had already bought everything the baby would need up until the age of fifteen a couple of months after she found out she was pregnant. She missed her mother. Her real mother. The one who always kept it real and rode her hard about her choices and nagged. _That_ was her mother. The mother she had known and loved for twenty-seven years.

She watched her mother shrug. "This is my first grandbaby, Layla. I'm not allowed to spoil her rotten?"

Okay, so her mother had a point there. But what was with the non-Lisattude? Her mother always seemed like she had something on her mind she didn't want to say. Which was weird because she _always_ said what was on her mind. Her mother was no-holds-barred.What was going on? Was there something about Vange she wasn't telling her? Was she sick? Layla's heart suddenly sank to her stomach. That was it. Her mother was sick. _Oh my God._

Lisa noticed her daughter's stricken expression. "Is everything okay?"

Layla fiddled with her earring. "Mommy, what's wrong?"

Lisa's stomach tightened. Layla hadn't called her "mommy" in years, and she only did it when she was giddy about something she had done for her. _"Thanks, Mommy! I love you!"_ She quickly turned back to folding the baby clothes and placing them in the dresser in the nursery. "Nothing, Layla."

"Are you sick? Is something wrong?" She held her breath. _God, please let me be wrong. Please._ "You've been acting weird for the longest."

"No, I'm not sick." Lisa stood at the dresser, her back to her daughter. The tears were already forming. She knew why she'd come to Llanview. She just couldn't take it anymore. The secret. It was eating her up inside. Like a corrosive acid on metal. She felt a metallic taste in her mouth. It was fitting.

Layla walked over to her mother who had suddenly become very quiet, still not taking a breath. "Mom?" Her mother didn't respond. She only stood there leaning against the dresser, her head down and her eyes closed. "Mom, what's wrong?" She instinctively rubbed her mother's back, trying to soothe her. She realized she was tired. This was all she seemed to be doing lately with her husband. Rubbing his back, trying to calm him. Everything was going so wrong. Vange, Cristian, and now something was wrong with her mother. The stress was beginning to overwhelm her. The stress she felt a few months ago about falling in love with her sister's ex-boyfriend seemed like a cakewalk now. This was supposed to be a happy time. A new beautiful husband. A new beautiful baby girl. A new beginning. But it was all going wrong. Cristian and now her mother. What more?

Lisa took the deepest breath of her life, trying to keep from becoming lightheaded. She just couldn't do this anymore. If she didn't get some peace in her soul soon she was going to lose it. She couldn't keep this from her daughter another minute. She was having her own daughter soon and she couldn't let the secret go on. Not through another generation. Her mouth began forming the words. "Oh, Layla...I have something to tell you...And it's hard. It's so hard..."

Layla watched as her mother sniffed and wiped at her tears. Her heart was pounding in her throat. _Oh my God. She is sick._ "Mom, what is it?" Her throat was dry and she was finding it difficult to keep her own tears at bay. She hadn't seen her mother cry since her father died. Her mother just never cried.

Lisa took another deep breath. She needed to stop the tears. She needed to catch her breath before she started hyperventilating. What kind of mother was she to lie to her own child all these years? She thought they had done the right thing but nobody deserved to have her own parents force her to live a lie. Lisa closed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. She had to do this. She had to do this for her baby girl.

"Mom?!" Layla's volume rose nervously. She didn't want to know but she needed to know. "Tell me."

Finally getting herself together as much as was possible, Lisa cleared her throat, trying to rid it of the phlegm that rose from her crying. "Let's sit down okay?"

Layla allowed her mother to lead her to the rocking chair Cristian had made for her and sat, her eyes showing the fear enveloping her heart as she watched her mother kneel before her, holding both of her hands in hers.

Lisa breathed deeply again before looking into her daughter's terrified eyes. She couldn't do this. She couldn't.

But, she did.

"Layla...Your daddy? James?" She held her breath as she squeezed her daughter's hands even tighter and looked into her eyes. It came out. It finally came out. Her voice was barely a whisper but it came out. "He's not your biological father, baby."

The fear in Layla's eyes quickly turned to confusion as she took her hands from her mother's. "What are you talking about?" She would have asked if she was joking but her mother rarely joked. And this could not be deemed funny by anyone.

The words started coming easier to Lisa now. Now that, after almost thirty years, she had told her child the truth. "Your daddy and I...we'd had a bad argument that was a long time coming..." She took in a labored breath. "And I left one night when your sister was at your grandmother's...and I slept with a man I'd known around for a little bit. It was a mistake. It was such a bad mistake but, baby, me and your father, we were blessed with you."

Layla leaned back in the chair, a blank expression on her face. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. There was no way. There was no way her mother--_her mother_--was telling her this. This was not real. It was not real.

"Layla, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." She reached for her daughter's hands again but Layla folded them across her stomach and stared down at something, her face showing no emotion. Lisa continued, trying to help her daughter understand. That's all she wanted. For her daughter to understand. "He...He was married, too. And he was an alcoholic and just a mess. And I just did a stupid, stupid thing. James forgave me. We forgave each other. And we wanted to give you the best life we could. All four of us would be a family and you didn't need to be involved in Cleveland's problems..." Lisa tried to look into Layla's eyes but her daughter wouldn't look at her. And then she felt her heart break as another of her children slipped away from her.

Layla refused to cry. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She was strangely calm. In shock. In one second she suddenly didn't know who she was. "Cleveland. That's my father's name?"

Lisa nodded, grateful her daughter was still talking to her. "Cleveland Gwen."

Layla still didn't meet her mother's eyes. _Layla Gwen. Layla Gwen Vega._ Her voice remained detached. Monotone. "Do I have any brothers? Any more sisters?"

"I didn't know him well. At all really. I know he had a son. I don't know about any other children."

_I have a brother. All my life I only had a sister. Now I have a brother. I have a fucking brother and I don't know who the hell he is._ She nodded to herself. This? Now this was too much. She was on overload. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Baby, we should've told you." The regret washed over her features in a tidal wave. "The older you got, the more scared we were of hurting you and..." She shook her head sadly. "Now you're having your own little girl and I...I didn't want it to go any further. You needed to know. For you and your baby."

Layla swallowed and nodded her head again. "Okay." She rose from the rocking chair, it suddenly feeling like a slab of concrete. She walked around her mother on her way out of the nursery but turned around just before reaching the door. Lisa rose from the floor and turned red, puffy eyes on her child. "Um," Layla reached up and absentmindedly scratched her head, still not looking into her mother's eyes. "I think I need to be by myself for awhile so...I'll see you next time, okay?" This time she met her mother's eyes. "Next time you come visit." Then she nodded to herself again and went to her bedroom and closed the door.

Cristian walked into the house, the silence and dimmed lighting immediately grabbing his attention. Usually there were several lights on and the sound of the television or one of Layla's many cds playing. Her Honda was in the garage so he knew she was home. But he was experiencing an uncomfortable feeling. Maybe Layla and her mother had gone to bed early. _At 7:00? No. Too early._ "Layla? I brought you some of these pork rinds." He hated those. But she couldn't get enough of them lately.

He dropped the plastic grocery bag on the counter in the kitchen and headed towards their bedroom, not seeing his wife nor his mother-in-law in the living room. When he entered the darkened room, he saw her on her green and purple moon chair, curled up looking out the uncovered window. "Layla? Is everything okay? Where's your mom?" He strolled over to her side, a concerned frown marring his handsome face. When he got to her side, he waited for her to answer him. But she didn't. She didn't move. Kneeling at her side, he rested his arm on the side of her chair. "Hey." He kept his voice as soft as he possibly could. His nerves were so jumbled and raw from the past several weeks, he had a hard time trying to keep his body from shaking. "What's wrong?"

He saw her take a deep breath and watched as she slid off the moon chair and moved on her knees the very short distance to him. He immediately shifted into a seated position as she fell into his arms, her body beginning to shake as her crying finally commenced. He held her as she clung to him. He hated to see her cry. Hated it.

The tears continued to fall. She needed him to hold her. There was no safer, more secure place than in his arms. No other place in the world where everything was always better. This was what she needed right now. To be held in her husband's strong, familiar arms. So, he held her. His own burdens quickly fell to the wayside.

"It all makes sense now. Why she was always so much harder on me than Vange. I was the mistake. The reminder of her mistake."

"Layla, _querida_, you were no more a mistake than our daughter. Just because you both were surprises doesn't mean anything. You, our baby...it was all meant to happen the way it did. We're all exactly where we're supposed to be." Cristian was settled in the recliner in front of the lit fireplace, Layla curled up in her pajamas and robe in his lap. He had given her a bath and fixed her a light late dinner, trying his hardest to maintain his focus on her while staving off a burgeoning headache. Too much coffee trying to keep himself awake during the day. The jittery feeling made him wonder when he was going to crash. Crash and burn. "I know it's hard to see it this way now but after awhile, you'll know your parents didn't mean to hurt you."

Her tears had long dried up. All that was left was anger. And a feeling of being absolutely lost.

"Look at Mami and Antonio. Antonio and me. Blood says we're cousins but that doesn't matter to us now. We're brothers. We've always been brothers. And nothing's going to change that. Layla, your mom is still your mom and your dad is still your dad. You can be angry, baby. It's alright. Be as angry as you want. Let it all out." He kissed her on the top of her head as he thought about never having taken his own advice. "I'm not going to tell you you're going to get over it soon. Everybody handles things like this differently." Again, he thought about himself. The nightmares. "Just look at what's in your heart after some time has gone by, okay? Just look at your heart. Everything will work itself out."

Layla digested his words silently. She still felt like she'd been punched in the gut. And lay shattered into a million pieces on the floor. But she couldn't help but wonder why her husband wasn't following his own advice. Why he kept the anger he had to feel bottled up. Why he didn't let it all out. "It's not just that, Cristian. It's like...It's like I don't even know who I am anymore. Where I came from. Everybody says I look just like my mother but what if I look like my real father, too? Did I get my personality from him? My attitude? I love music. Did I get that from him? My parents and Vange were never really into it like I was...I could have a million relatives out there and I wouldn't even know them if I saw them on the street tomorrow. I mean, somebody named Cleveland Gwen is my father and I don't know who the hell he is."

"It's okay, Layla. Take your time with this." The name sounded familiar to him for some reason. It wasn't the most common name but he couldn't for the life of him place it. Then again, he wasn't at his best mentally so he could just be imagining it.

"Cleveland Gwen. I don't know why but it sounds familiar, Cris. And that just makes it worse." She turned to look up into her husband's face. "Why does it sound familiar?"

Cristian shook his head. "I don't know, but...it does seem like I've heard the name somewhere before."

She sat up in his lap and looked at him. "You, too?"

He mirrored her confused expression and she settled back into his arms. Maybe they _both_ needed some sleep. With the quickness.

He was drowning. He couldn't catch his breath. Suffocating. He needed oxygen. He saw stars. Everything was spinning.

Cristian jolted awake, hyperventilating. He struggled to separate his dream from reality. The darkness of his bedroom from the darkness of his nightmare.

Without a word, Layla once again crawled over to his side of the bed, rubbing his back. He sounded like he was choking on his own breath. He'd never woken up like this before. Was he even here with her or was he there? _Oh, God, please help him. Please._ "Cris, it's okay--"

He suddenly climbed out of the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, immediately turning the light on, dry heaving over the sink. Layla followed him, rubbing his back again, letting him know she was there. He was safe. She would always be there. Her heart ached even more and the tears welled up in her eyes. He had to get some help. She had to get him some help. This was too much. And it had been going on for far too long. Why did she let it get this bad? She couldn't keep doing this. He was breaking her heart slowly night by night and it couldn't take the unintentional abuse anymore. Seeing him in so much pain was killing her. Tomorrow was it. They were going to deal with this. She was not going to stand by and watch him break.

Layla opened the door to Cristian's loft and walked inside. She shook her head. _He really needs to learn how to lock the door._ She tried to settle her nerves that were completely on edge. Last night, he had crumpled down onto the bathroom floor and stayed there after he had finally caught his breath. He didn't tell her to go back to sleep as she sat next to him and held him. Didn't even acknowledge her presence. He probably didn't even know she was there.

There were four months left on his lease so he was still using his studio to work while he decided where to relocate his supplies. They had chosen to wait to buy a house until sometime after the baby was born and there wasn't enough space in the condo for Cristian to work since the extra bedroom was the nursery. Hearing some noise upstairs, Layla started on her way to the winding staircase when a piece Cristian was working on caught her eye. The piece was dark. Very dark. It was extremely abstract but the feeling it evoked in her was unsettling and disturbing. She had never been good at deciphering and understanding art but this one touched her to her core. Perhaps if it had been created by some stranger it wouldn't have. But this was by her husband's hand. It was definitely not a commissioned piece. It was personal. His pain and turmoil were bleeding through every stroke.

Turning away, Layla saw what looked like canvases covered up in the corner. Curious, she lifted the corner of the sheet and saw more of her husband's work. More pain. More hurt. She soon heard footsteps on the staircase and waited for him, the sheet still in her hand. But it wasn't him. "Hey, Antonio. I thought you were Cris. Is he upstairs?"

Antonio didn't look happy to see her. He didn't look happy at all. In fact, he looked scared to see her. "No. Uh, he's not."

"Where'd he go?" She frowned. His car was out front.

He had to tell her. She was going to know soon enough. "Layla...He's gone."

A nervous laugh escaped her. "What do you mean he's gone?" Her daughter was kicking like crazy.

"He left...He's gone."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Layla swallowed, her throat suddenly as dry as chalk. He was joking. Or just being overly dramatic. Cristian was just at the store. That was it. He went with one of his friends to the store and just didn't tell her. "Um, he...he just stepped out, right?" Her voice was small and completely devoid of conviction. She placed her hands across her belly, instinctively trying to calm her suddenly hyperactive baby girl. Antonio didn't look like he was joking. Or being overly dramatic. But her mind wouldn't--couldn't--grasp what the look on his face was telling her.

Antonio shook his head somberly. He watched as Layla blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from forming behind her eyelids, trying to understand what he was saying, trying to overcome the shock. Walking over to her, he took one of her hands from her belly and led her over to the exotically patterned lounge in Cristian's studio, sitting her and himself down on it. He found it difficult to look into her eyes as they desperately searched his. Searched for answers. He was still trying to figure it all out himself. He knew his baby brother had been stressed lately but Cristian had always shrugged it off whenever he asked about it. And Antonio just assumed he was having some difficulty adjusting to his quickly expanding family. But his brother was no coward. He was the strongest man he knew. There was no way he left because he couldn't handle becoming a father. He loved Layla and his unborn child more than life. This was about something else. Cristian didn't go into much detail about what he was dealing with--only wanted to make sure Layla understood why he had to leave--but Antonio had a good idea what this was about. "I tried to catch him. That's why I'm here. He called me on my cell. When he started talking about leaving I got in the car and started over here. But..." Antonio shook his head and looked down, needing a break from her frightened eyes.

Layla sat, dazed and confused. This couldn't be. There was no way he left her. Her and their baby. Not now. No way. He promised. He promised he would never leave her. This...it just couldn't be. They were supposed to handle this together. That's why she came to his studio directly after work. They were going to deal with his nightmares. Together. She wasn't going to let them tear her and her husband apart. _But now...now..._ She swallowed again and wiped at the tears that fought their way down her cheeks anyway, begging her brother-in-law for answers. Something. Anything. "Did he...Did he say where he was going? Did he say why he left? Did he say why he left me?" She started to stammer through her tears. "Did he...Did he say why, Antonio?" She couldn't catch her breath. "He...he didn't even say goodbye. He didn't even say goodbye, Antonio." She shook her head and looked at the floor through blurry vision. It still wasn't clicking. Her sister. Her father...twice. Now her husband.

Antonio reached out and pulled Layla to his side, holding her as she tried to stop her tears, trying desperately to keep his own emotions in check. Staring at nothing in particular, Antonio proceeded to tell her what happened when he last spoke with his brother. His voice practically a monotone, he spoke quietly. "He said he couldn't keep putting you through it. His problems." Antonio was silent for several seconds as he tried to recall everything his brother told him. "He said you weren't sleeping because of him. That he was making things worse for you and he was worried about you and the baby."

Layla remained silent, still trying to force her mind to understand. _He left? He left us?_ Her daughter was still restless.

Nearly a minute passed before Antonio spoke again, his voice matching his darkened mood. "It's that year, isn't it?" He waited for a reply but there was nothing. The lack of a negative response affirmed what he already suspected and he shook his head and sighed, his soul pained. "Cris has been through enough hell for twenty lifetimes. He just needs some more time to get through it. More time than I'm sure he thought."

_Cristian. Left. He left us...I'm going to kill him. I am going to kill him!_

Antonio shook his head. "He's always been like this. Always. He just has to do everything on his own so he's not a burden to anybody he loves." He went silent again. Layla still hadn't spoken. He could only imagine what she was feeling. What she was thinking. He quickly decided to give her Cristian's message. "He wanted me to tell you he loves you and he'll be back. As soon as he gets himself straight, he'll be back. He wasn't going to say goodbye to you because he was going to be back. And if he saw you he wouldn't have been able to leave. He just kept saying he needed to get himself right. For you and the baby. I tried to get him to listen to me and think about this some more, but..." Antonio's voice trailed off and he sighed heavily.

Layla thought back to that morning. The last time she saw him. He had made her favorite breakfast: homemade French toast, sausage links, scrambled eggs, and strawberries. She hadn't thought anything of it; he usually made breakfast during the week and occasionally hooked her up with her favorite. She always asked him why he didn't make her favorite every morning to which he always replied with a wink that _certain_ things--if she had them all the time--would slowly lose their appeal. Then later he forewent his usual goodbye peck on the lips for one of those kisses that made her soul stir and her brain processes short circuit. He told her and his daughter he loved them and to drive carefully. And that was it.

Then she remembered. That day. When he first told her he loved her. In the park. He had never answered her. When she asked him not to leave her, he had never answered. Was this why? Was he already having problems back then? He never broke his promises. So he never made promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

_Damn him!_ She couldn't do this without him. Her life. She _wouldn't_ do it without him. He had her completely on lock and as much as she hated it, as much as it threatened every ounce of her independence, she knew that wasn't going to change. She needed him. Now and forever. There was no telling when he would be back. When he would feel he was "right." She was six months' pregnant, soon going to be entering her third trimester. What about the birth? How could he leave them alone? _Okay. That man thinks I'm just going to sit back and wait for his ass to come back. That I'm just going to let him get away with this. I am not the one. Aint no way in the world. NO way in the world..._ She made up her mind. She made up her mind and put herself back together, taking her head from her brother-in-law's shoulder. She was going to find him. Chew his ass the fuck out. Make him promise not to leave her again. Chew him out some more. Then be there every step of the way while he got whatever help he needed to make himself whole again. But, first, she needed to find him.

And Antonio was a detective.

"I have to find him. He's not leaving me like this."

Antonio was temporarily surprised at the determination in her voice so soon after her small breakdown. "Cris knows what I do. If he doesn't want to be found--"

Layla rose from the lounge and looked down at her brother-in-law. She wasn't having any of that. "Where do we start?"

"Hello?" Layla hoped it was who she thought it was. Well, the second person she hoped it was. Would Cristian call her to at least let her know he was okay? His cell phone went straight to voicemail every time she called and according to Antonio, Cristian hadn't made any calls from it since the day before. Layla had answered every "Out of Area" call at home in hopes it could be him even though each time it had been a telemarketer for whom she had had no patience to deal with. If the voice on the other end didn't have her husband's inflection or his accent as soon as she said hello, the phone was hung up. Antonio had promised to get to work tracking his brother down a few hours earlier after they'd left Cristian's studio but Layla wanted more people on the job before her husband could get too far.

"Hey there, _Mrs. Vega_."

"Domino! Hey. Will talked to you?"

"Yeah. I didn't know you got married, baby girl. It broke my heart into a million pieces."

Layla smiled softly, her first smile in hours. Domino was such a ladies' man. A private eye and a ladies' man. She'd met him through her friend Will during her acting days out in California when another friend of hers ran into a little trouble she needed help getting out of. Domino had handled it. He was strictly legit but he wasn't above bending the rules a little to get the job done. Especially for his friends. He and Layla had enjoyed some friendly, borderline flirtatious banter during her time out there but she'd never liked him that way. And he knew he'd never have a chance with a classy woman like Layla Williamson. So they kept things on an easygoing friendship tip with no problem. "Yeah, well...I need to find him."

Domino got the hint: no banter, just business. "Okay, well, I've only got the basics covered now, Mrs. V. Mr. V didn't hop on any planes, trains, or buses in Llanview or any other airport, train or bus station within a 100-mile radius. He hasn't used any of his credit cards. Now, he could've used cash for a ticket at any of these places and that's where you come in. You can make my job a little easier and check to see if there were any large withdrawals from your bank account that you don't know about."

Layla rubbed her forehead and sighed. _Damn._ "We've only been married a month and a half and things have been crazy. We haven't gotten around to getting a joint account yet." Then she remembered. "But I have his account and routing numbers."

"Okay. Lay it on me."

Layla found the canceled checks in his bank statement that had recently come in the mail at his studio that he'd brought home along with the rest of his mail. She read the numbers to Domino and listened as he continued.

"Okay, Mrs. V. I'll get back to work on this..."

Layla listened as she heard him hesitate, like he had something more to say. "What?"

"I didn't ask for any details, pretty lady, but this husband of yours is a fool for leaving you."

"It's not like that, Domino." She sighed and rubbed her head again. Headache. And her little one was getting restless again. "He's going through something and...he _stupidly_ thinks I'm better off without him right now."

Domino wasn't completely convinced this Vega guy wasn't playing a beautiful woman for a fool but he knew Layla was smart. Book and street. She always knew what she was doing so he decided to trust her judgment. "Okay, darlin'. If he's worth it, I'll stay on it."

"Trust me. He's not my favorite person right now, but...he is. Always will be. I really need to find him, Domino."

"Alright, sweet thing."

Layla heard the phone click. Domino never said goodbye. But she usually could tell when he was finished with a call so it didn't bother her. She relaxed back in the recliner and rubbed her belly. It was crazy but Layla swore her active little girl missed her daddy as much as she did. "It's okay, baby girl. Mama's going to find him. She's going to wring his neck when she does but she's going to find him."

Layla stood looking at herself in the foggy bathroom mirror after her shower. It was two o'clock in the morning following one of the worst days of her life. After getting off the phone with Domino she had tried to relax her body while waiting for the phone to ring but it was just not possible. So many thoughts were racing through her mind it made her body restless and she couldn't stop herself from pacing. She was angry. Just so angry. At the love of her life. The sons of bitches who had hurt him and set this entire nightmare in motion. Her mother and father for lying to her. Her sister for refusing to come out of her coma. Every traffic light that stopped her on the way to Cristian's studio making her barely miss him just like Antonio.

And she was scared. Scared for her husband. Her daughter. Herself. She felt so abandoned and so alone. She had an entire family out there somewhere she didn't know and her husband had just joined them in the ranks of missing from her life. How long would he be gone? What if Antonio and Domino couldn't find him? What if he never got better and decided to stay away permanently? _What if I never see him again? What about our baby? Our family?_

Why the hell didn't he call her? He knew how much she needed him, how much she worried about him even before their lives began spiraling apart. He _knew_. How could he put her through this? Her fear was again replaced by anger. She was so angry with him she couldn't see straight. But she still needed to see him, smell him, touch him. She needed to hear his voice, look into his eyes. He needed to know she would be there every step of the way, no matter what happened. She needed him to know she could and would handle it and he didn't need to run off to protect her like she was some fragile porcelain doll. But first she needed to find him. Already she was feeling so desperate and helpless she was thinking about talking with Natalie. They _were_ married when Cristian was kidnapped, and there was a small chance--in spite of what Adriana thought--that Natalie might know something that could help her. Although she and Cristian had been friends a good while before things changed, there was still a lot she didn't know about his past as he was never keen on dwelling on it.

Sighing heavily, Layla brushed her teeth and wrapped her hair for the night. She knew she wasn't going to sleep but she wanted to at least rest her eyes. She had pulled in some overtime last week so she would probably make tomorrow a half day at work using the "doctor's appointment" excuse. She didn't want the Blair interrogation. For some reason, that nosy heffa always knew when something was up and Layla did not want anyone outside of her family knowing Cristian was missing. At least not now. She knew Blair cared and would want to help but Todd came with Blair and Layla knew her husband would not be on that one. At all.

She flipped the light switch in the bathroom off on her way out when what she saw started her heart pounding. _Oh my God._

Was it him? She felt her tears nearing the surface as she stood there almost in shock. _It IS him. Oh my God_. Layla stood there, staring at her husband's back that was turned to her as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was wearing his brown leather jacket and was hunched over slightly. So many emotions washed over her. Disbelief. Relief. _Profound_ relief. An unrelenting urge to run to him and kiss him all over his face and hold him in her arms. But anger kept her feet glued to the carpet right outside the bathroom door.

She saw him shake his head from side to side. "I couldn't...I just couldn't leave."

His voice. She missed his voice. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours but she missed his voice terribly when she thought she might never hear it again.

He felt himself choking up and tried to withhold a sob. He couldn't remember the last time he was this close to tears. He was so messed up he had actually tried to leave his wife and daughter. "I need you. I can't do this without you, Layla...I can't."

She felt her resolve crumbling. He was so strong but every time he allowed himself to be vulnerable with her only deepened her connection with him and made her love him more. _Don't walk over there. Don't give in. You're pissed, Layla. You're pissed off. What did he just put you through?_

He knew she was there. Staring at his back. Not moving an inch towards him. He deserved it. He deserved everything he was sure she was going to dish out. He thought he could do it. He honestly thought he could leave his wife--his rock--while he worked through the nightmare that was plaguing him. He needed to get better. He had to get better. It wasn't just him anymore. He had a family to think about. One that needed him to be whole. He couldn't just keep painting or boxing to deal with the anger, the pain. They hadn't worked. They weren't working.

But his beautiful wife. He didn't want to put her through it anymore. That last night, she had stayed up with him. After getting the most painful, jarring news in her life about her father, having her entire world uprooted, she had stayed up with him all night, putting his problems before her own. Putting him before herself. He still didn't know how to handle it. She was too good to him and she didn't deserve this--his baggage. He just couldn't bring her another sleepless night. She needed it now more than ever. She was bringing his child into the world and struggling to figure out who she was again. So, he had decided to leave, to try to heal on his own, so his wife and daughter would be spared. So they wouldn't have to be touched by his past any more than they already had. So he didn't have to feel that pang in his stomach every time he looked into Layla's exhausted face after he caused her yet another sleepless night.

Layla shifted nervously in her position as she saw him rise from the bed and turn to face her. He stood there, his tired eyes penetrating her own. It was taking a sledgehammer to what little was left of her resolve. His eyes were killing her. They were as deadly as his lips if not more so. And filled with vulnerability he showed as rarely as she turned down chocolate. She took her eyes from his face and turned her head to the side to hold on to her last shred of determination and saw him, in response, move toward her through her peripheral vision. She swallowed and refused to look into his face as he stopped in front her.

He spoke softly, his voice laced with regret and the weight of his emotions. "I thought if I left...

_Left. He left you._ Layla quickly turned back to face him, her temper suddenly flaring. "Do you know what you just put me through? I didn't know where you were or when I would see you again--"

"Layla, I'm sorry--"

"--or if you would even bother to pick up the damn phone to let me know you were okay! You can't do this to me, Cristian! I can't lose you, too!"

Cristian dropped his head, focusing his eyes on the carpet. He felt even worse. "I was scared. I thought that that time...it was over. It was done, in the past...But it's not and I'm scared and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how this is going to end and I didn't want to bring you and the baby down with me..." She watched as he took a deep, ragged breath. His voice became even smaller. "I left before I could scare you away."

That did it. Her anger dissipated. Just like that. And she didn't care anymore. "Cristian, baby... I'm not weak. I don't need you to make decisions like this for me. I can be just as strong for you as you are for me. We can get through this together and I don't care how long it takes. I told you, I promised you I wasn't going to leave you. You have to trust me. I'm not going anywhere." She reached out and stroked his arm, a small smile finding its way to her face. "I'm not finished breaking you in yet, buster."

He finally brought his eyes back to her face. "I know you're strong. I know you're strong, Layla...It's just. It's me. I have a hard time leaning on people. On anybody. I've just never had anything like this before." He brought his right hand up to stroke her face while he stared into her eyes. "Someone I need so much it scares me."

And just like that, he broke her all the way down. It only took ten minutes to take her from righteous indignation to putty. She placed her hand over his. "I know exactly what that's like." _Look at us. A couple of grown ass needy people._ She took his hand from her face, grabbed his other hand, and placed them both across her stomach for the little person there just dying for some attention. "She needs you, too."

Cristian smiled softly and leaned over to talk to his little girl. "_Papi es arrepentido, mija._ Go back to sleep now, okay?"

Layla snorted and shook her head. _Who ever heard of a daddy's girl in the womb?_ "If she listens to you, I give up." A small laugh escaped her.

"Nah. She just hasn't heard me try to sing a lullaby to her yet. Our grace period will be over in a heartbeat."

"Oh my goodness. I don't even believe it." It had to be a coincidence. Cristian's partner in crime stopped with the somersaults. Layla smirked at her husband who was wearing a completely phony _What did I do?_ face.

He chuckled at his wife's perplexed expression. "She's just a good baby. It'll be a breeze."

"Okay, Mr. Breeze. Let's see how much you enjoy getting up with her in the middle of night while Mama gets some sleep."

"Hey now..._Papi_ doesn't have _Mami's_ equipment."

"I'll hook you up with the goods before I go to sleep, don't worry."

Cristian only laughed. He hadn't been gone long but he missed her like hell. It was the longest time they'd been apart since the trip he took when Layla had her first ultrasound. Since that night she let go of her inhibitions and their relationship officially became his life jacket. His mood quickly sobering, he took his hands from his wife's belly and placed them on both sides of her face. "I think you should follow her lead and get some sleep." He kissed her softly then grabbed her hand, intending to lead her to their bed. "Come on. I'll tuck you in."

"Wait a minute." She stopped his motion and pulled him back in front of her. She looked him dead in his eyes, a steely determination in hers surpassed only by that in her voice. "You promise me. Right now." She paused to make sure he knew she was being serious. "Promise me you won't do this to me again."

He could do it this time. Easily. There was nothing without her. Nothing without her and the tiny life inside of her they had created together. He didn't hesitate, didn't blink. His gaze was unwavering. "I promise. I'm not going anywhere. I'm never leaving you again."

It was all she needed to hear but she chose not to let him see just how much she needed those words. "Good. Now I won't have to hurt you." She took his jacket off and tossed it behind her on the moon chair. Then she removed his sweater and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them pool around his shoe-clad feet. He slipped out of his shoes and socks, and stepped out of his jeans. "Let's try to get some sleep." She took his left hand in her right and together they climbed into bed, settling underneath the covers into each other's arms after turning off the lights on their nightstands.

"I love you, Layla."

"I love you, too." Layla sighed, inhaling her man's scent contentedly, eyes closed. She yawned, her mind finally beginning to shut down. "Mmm. Don't let me forget to call off my PI in the morning. After we call Antonio..."

Cristian raised his head off his pillow and craned his neck to look down at his wife. "What?"

"Domino..."

"Who the hell is Domino?"

"The PI..."

It was like pulling teeth. "You hired a PI named Domino???"

Layla yawned again, half asleep. She loved him, but Cristian really needed to stop talking. "I don't know who you think you're married to. I wasn't going to just let you leave. Try to sleep, baby, okay? Try to sleep..."

After several seconds, he kissed her on her forehead and closed his eyes. He really did not deserve her. She would go to the ends of the earth to find him like he would for her. This was what love was about. It took him a hell of a lot of trial and error but he had finally found it and nobody and nothing was going to take it away from him.

Her hands wrapped around Cristian's right bicep, Layla escorted her terrified-but-trying-to-hide-it husband to the receptionist's desk. When they reached the gray-haired, pleasant looking woman, Layla squeezed his arm and smiled softly to him to encourage him as he glanced into her face.

"Hi. Are you here for an appointment?" Her voice was soothing and helped to settle Cristian's nerves. A little.

"Yes. Cristian Vega."

The woman looked down at her computer screen and smiled. "Yep. I've got you penciled in here. This is your first visit?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am."

"Dr. Green doesn't bite. I promise. He's too scared of me to try." Laughing softly, she handed Cristian a clipboard. "There isn't too much paper work to fill out but we want you to be up to speed on HIPAA and all of that fun stuff."

Cristian smiled nervously and took the clipboard and pen. "Thanks." Sighing deeply, he turned and looked at Layla again.

"How about right here?" She pointed to some empty chairs not far from the receptionist's desk. The office was small and there were no other patients to avoid sitting directly next to so there wasn't much decision to be made as far as seating.

After he finished filling out the paperwork and returned it to the receptionist, he sat back down and rubbed his hands together. He couldn't believe he was here. In a psychiatrist's office. He painted. He always painted. Anytime he was dealing with something that troubled him--and his hand wasn't out of commission--he painted. It helped him. It was his own personal therapy. He went to the gym. He boxed for awhile. But here he was. About to try to spill his guts to some stranger who was supposed to somehow help him make himself better. This was the last place he wanted to be. The absolute last. But he had to do this. For Layla, his daughter, and himself.

"I'm going to be right out here, okay?" Layla rubbed his back. "You need me I'll be right here." She watched as he only nodded. She knew this was extremely hard on him. Hell, she would have had to be dragged into a therapist's office kicking and screaming her damn self. She'd taken a load of psychology classes in college and the first thing you learned was that delving into your psyche was never easy and always uncomfortable. And that was for patients who hadn't even been through what she feared her husband had.

They heard the door open and a very familiar man stepped out. He recognized them immediately. "Cristian. It's good to see you again. Although I guess it's not on the best of circumstances." He walked over to them and held out his hand as Cristian rose taking it, the surprise written all over his face.

"Dr. Green? I can't believe I didn't recognize the name when I called..."

Dr. Green nodded in understanding and smiled. "I remembered you. I wondered if you knew who you were making an appointment with. You know if you don't think you would be comfortable we can set you up with one of my partners but that's completely up to you."

_I wouldn't be comfortable with God Himself._ "Uh, I think it'll be fine. For now." _I guess._ He inhaled sharply. He _really_ didn't want to be here. "Um, you remember my wife, Layla?"

Cristian started to help her from her seat as he saw her start to rise but Dr. Green held out his hand to stop them, seeing she was very pregnant and not wanting her to trouble herself. "Please. It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise." She was surprised, too.

That cleared something up. When he and his wife Diane had visited Cristian in his hospital room to thank him for saving Diane's life, he had seen Layla and wondered if she was Cristian's wife, girlfriend, or just a friend. Now he knew, at least now, it was the former. "Well, if you're ready, we can step into my office and get to work."

Cristian drew in a very deep breath. He'd rather be walking into prison again than this. Layla again looked at him with love, encouragement, and promise and it gave him the slight boost he needed to put one foot in front of the other and enter Barry Green's office.

Layla pushed the grocery cart over to the produce section. Cristian loved Fuji apples and she needed to replenish her strawberry stash. Buying fruit helped her feel better about all the pork rinds, donuts, chocolate pudding, Ben & Jerry's ice cream, orange sherbet, dill pickles, and cream cheese in her cart. Finished picking out a bag of apples, Layla headed to the front registers when she heard a raspy voice call out her name.

"Layla. How's it going?"

Turning around, she saw it was Shaun, a shopping basket in his hands. A genuine smile crept across her face. "Hey." She hadn't seen him since her days with Vincent. He and Vincent went way back and Shaun would always be loyal to him, but Layla had always liked him and had considered him a friend. "Long time no see." She peeked into his basket. "You cooking all that???"

"Hey, I can cook." He smiled. "Got a date tomorrow night."

Layla nodded her head approvingly. "Pasta. Oh _linguini_. Good choice."

"I do what I can." He pointed to her stomach. "Things going alright?"

"Pretty good so far."

"How's Cristian?" Shaun had always had respect for Vega. They hadn't always been on the same side of things in the past, but there was mad respect. He was a good man. And he was one brother Shaun couldn't intimidate if he tried no matter how much height and weight he had on him.

Layla gave the standard answer. Shaun didn't need to know about her husband's problems. "He's doing okay." It had been a couple of weeks since his first session and it had not been going easy for him. Layla always sat in the waiting room during and he always came out looking drained and still wasn't sleeping well. But he wasn't going to get better overnight and they both accepted that and tried to be patient.

"That's good."

"What about you? How have you been?"

Shaun nodded. "Doing okay, too."

"Good."

"Well, hey, I won't keep you. Tell Cristian I said I haven't seen him at the gym in awhile. He must be getting soft."

Layla chuckled. "Okay, I will."

Shaun started to turn but continued, "Oh, and hey. If you and Cristian ever need anything, don't hesitate to look me up, okay?"

Layla smiled again. She knew what he meant. _Don't let Vincent and what happened keep us from being cool_. "Thanks. Same goes for you."

"Alright. Take care."

"Bye."

"What about this one? Nyah. It means purpose."

"Nyah Vega." Cristian pursed his lips as he thought about it. "We can put that one down." The excited parents-to-be were settled on the couch Sunday evening flipping through various books of baby names. Cristian had again taken a trip to the library, this time to gather a couple of art books along with some books of African and Hispanic baby names. Layla had already had it in her mind to give her child an African name like hers and a Hispanic one to honor her mixed ethnicity. Cristian had loved the idea.

"Alita...Alita Vega. It means noble."

"Maybe for a middle name? I'll write it down."

"Gosh, Cristian, this is hard. We have a million names on our list. She's going to be stuck with whatever we pick for the rest of her life. I don't want her to hate her name."

"I know. There are so many good ones. It's going to be hell trying to narrow this list down." He frowned as he looked at the notebook they were using.

"Tell me about it."

Cristian sighed. "Well, there's one thing we can do. If we can at least narrow it down to five or six names, we'll just have to have more kids so we can use them all."

Layla looked at him like he was crazy. "Five or six? Who the hell do you know is having that many kids?"

"Five or six? That's not that many."

"Oh, yes it is. I think two or three is a good number."

"You don't want a big family? A bunch of kids running around livening the place up?"

"Mmm, we can get the same effect with two or three. Neither one of us had a big family and we turned out just fine." _Damn. Scratch that. I don't know what size family I have._ And just like that, her mood darkened. She still had a hard time with it. Remembering it wasn't just her, her sister, her mother and father anymore. There were more out there somewhere.

Noticing her mood shift, Cristian broached the sensitive subject. "Have you talked to your mom yet?"

"No." She answered sharply. Then she softened her tone before continuing. "It's not like I'm never going to talk to her again. She is my mother. The only one I have. I just need to figure some things out first. If Daddy was still here I wouldn't be talking to him yet either."

Cristian reached out and pulled her to his side, settling down further into the couch cushions. "I understand." He hadn't forgotten what she was going through but he knew his wife. If she wanted to talk about something, she brought it up. When she wasn't ready, it was impossible to get anywhere with her. Same with him. Silence engulfed them for many minutes while they took a breather from baby names.

Then Layla broke the silence, deciding to share with her husband what she had been thinking about lately. He was continuing with his therapy but she hadn't wanted to bother him with her problems. At least not yet. What he was going through took the utmost priority in her life and was much more pressing than her familial concerns. "I think I want to find him. I think this not knowing is what's making it so bad. I hate being kept in the dark about things. I want everything out in the open. Up front, you know? And that name..." She shook her head.

"I still don't know why it's familiar to me either, Layla."

She snuggled even closer into his arms. "Anyway...I think it might help me figure some things out. Knowing where I came from. If I really do have more brothers and sisters." _Vange._ She sighed. "I told you Daddy was always really supportive of me. I wanted to do something, he told me he'd have a spot clear for the trophy." She smiled in remembrance before it soon faded. "But that's just it. He knew I wasn't really his so he overcompensated with me and that's why Vange always felt she had something to prove to him. I never really understood that until now. Now I know why she drove herself the way she did. He was so busy trying not to treat me any differently, he left her out." She felt tears nearing the surface and fought to keep them back. "I know it's not my fault but I feel so guilty. I always felt my mom was harder on me than on her and she must have felt the same way about our--her father."

Cristian remained silent and continued to rub her back. He didn't really know what to say to make her feel better because what she said had made a whole lot of sense. And telling someone not to feel guilty when they already knew they shouldn't never worked. It was something they had to deal with on their own terms in their own time. "Nobody's family is perfect, Beautiful. There's always something. Small or big, there's always something. We all just try to do the best we can." He touched her belly before continuing. "We can only try to do our best with little Serafina Vega here and her five brothers and sisters."

She sniffed and laughed. "Serafina? I see you got jokes, Cristian."

"What? You don't like it?"

"It sounds like Serenity and that reminds me of those diapers people with bladder problems have to wear."

Cristian laughed out loud. "Wow. Okay, then. Never mind."

_Oh my goodness._ Layla shot up from her position in her husband's grasp. _Serenity diapers._ She saw them at the grocery store the other day. She saw Shaun at the grocery store the other day. At the Americans photo shoot last summer, Shaun had introduced them to his grandfather, Fred Gwen.

Cristian looked at his wife strangely, wondering why she had gotten startled.

She looked at him. "Cris, what's Shaun's father's name? Do you remember?"

He squinted his eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. Then it dawned on him. "It's a coincidence, right?"

Layla nodded. "Has to be."

"We met Fred and Shaun said his father's name was a city in Ohio--"

"Cleveland."

_What. The. Fuck???_ They both thought simultaneously.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Okay." Layla got up from the couch and started pacing. "This is crazy. There's no way. I mean, there has to be more than one Cleveland Gwen out there, right?"

Cristian sat up and leaned forward on his elbows, his hands rubbing together. "Yeah. But Shaun's from Atlanta, too. He and Vincent grew up there."

"I know. This is just--it's crazy. It can't be. There is no way. It has to be a coincidence, Cris. It's just a crazy coincidence that we're both from Atlanta and we both have a father named Cleveland Gwen. Right? Right, Cristian?"

Cristian sighed heavily and rose from the couch, standing in front of his wife to stop her from pacing. "It could be. It's a lot of coincidences but it could be." He rubbed her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around herself, brow furrowed. He wanted to ask her to call her mother and get more details but he didn't want to appear to be pushing her to talk to Lisa when she wasn't ready because Layla pushed back when she felt unwanted pressure. He couldn't imagine being estranged from his mother, like his brother had been, but he'd never had the rug pulled out from under him like they had. Nevertheless, he asked. "What about your mom? Maybe she can give us some more information."

Layla shook her head. "She told me everything she knew. She knew he had a son but she didn't know his name...Damn." She shook her head again and took a step forward so that she could rest her head against her rock's chest.

Cristian held her as he thought. If Layla didn't want to talk to her mother yet, they had three choices. _He_ could talk to her mother. Layla didn't know it but he had spoken to Lisa since her visit to let her know Layla was doing okay. As a father-to-be, he couldn't imagine not having any contact with his child, not knowing whether she was safe and healthy, so he'd taken the opportunity a couple of times to let his mother-in-law know she and the baby were fine. Regardless, he wasn't keen on that idea. There was a difference between giving her mother general information about her well-being and getting involved in their issues about Layla's biological father. Talking to Shaun and trying to bypass Lisa for the time being was the next option. Or, Layla could re-hire the PI she knew to dig for information for her. He felt the last option was too much trouble when all they needed was a picture of Cleveland from Shaun and a positive identification from Lisa--if Layla was willing to involve her again. "What are you thinking about?"

He heard and felt her take a deep, cleansing breath before she replied and took her head from his chest. "I guess I better talk to Shaun. See if he has a picture."

_That's my baby,_ Cristian thought.

"Then I'm going to have to show my mother." She sighed and pulled out of his arms to sit on the couch again and rest her head in her hands. "I've got a feeling about this already, Cris." She took her head out of her hands and looked up at her husband.

"You think it's him." It wasn't a question.

Layla nodded almost imperceptively before stating simply. "I think Shaun's my brother."

"Shaun?"

"Yep."

"Hey, it's Layla." Layla paced as she held the phone to her ear with one hand while the other rested on her ever-growing belly, her daughter as restless as she was. Shaun's number was still in her cell, unlike Vincent's. She briefly wondered if that had been a sign. Vincent had given it to her in case she ever needed it when they dated the first time.

"Hey. How's it going?"

"Um," she glanced at Cristian who was leaning against the kitchen island, watching his wife closely. "Everything's fine. I just...Can I ask you about your father? His name was Cleveland, right?"

Shaun's voice didn't hide his surprise at the direction their conversation was taking. "Yeah. Why?"

She took another deep breath and forged ahead. "Listen. I know this is going to come from out of nowhere, but," she glanced at her husband again and bit her lip. "I just found out not too long ago who my real father is and...his name is Cleveland Gwen." She waited...and waited for Shaun to say something but there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm still here..." _There's gotta be more than one Cleveland Gwen out there. Not the most common name but still,_ Shaun thought.  
"You're from Atlanta, too, right?"

"Right."

"Wow." Shaun shook his head. This was some crazy shit right here. "So who gave you that name? My father never said anything about having any other kids, Layla."

"My mother told me. She said Cleveland didn't know about me." Layla remembered her mother telling her about Cleveland's drinking problem and his being married at the time as well but she didn't want to be insensitive and bring all of that up. Just in case her Cleveland was indeed Shaun's Cleveland, too.

"Damn. This is..."

"I know. Shaun," she rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes briefly. "I just want to know. This whole thing. Finding all this out. It's been weighing on me, you know? I just need to know. If I'm wrong about this, then I'm wrong and we can forget all about this. But I really need to be sure."

Shaun nodded on his end. "What do you need me to do?"

Layla rubbed her head again. She felt a headache burgeoning. "Do you have a picture of him? I can scan it and send it to my mom."

Shaun thought. "Yeah, I do somewhere. We weren't that close. He had some problems." Problems that took him away from home and got Shaun hooked up with Vincent.

_Problems? Drinking problems. Oh gosh. He is my brother._ "Had? Is he okay now?"

"He passed awhile ago. Probably ten years now."

"Oh," was all she could manage. Her heart sank. In spite of what her mother said, she had still wanted to meet him. Hopefully he wouldn't have been unwilling to talk to her and would have accepted her if she was his child. But, now it didn't matter. He was gone. Her father James was gone. Her sister was gone. Too many damn people were gone.

"Layla, you there?"

"Mm-hmm." She forced her mind back on track. "Shaun, is it alright if I come over? To see the picture? What's your address again?" She listened as Shaun gave her the green light and his address. Hanging up, she immediately went to her bedroom to change into some decent clothes, grabbed her purse and her husband, and headed out the door.

An hour later, Layla was on the phone again, this time from Shaun's place.

"Layla, baby, how are you doing, sweetheart? Is everything okay?" Lisa felt tears nearing the surface. She was talking to her daughter. Her baby girl. It had been too long. Every time she called, she wouldn't get an answer, unless Cristian was home to tell her Layla didn't want to talk to her. Not in those words, of course, but she knew. Every time she emailed, she never got a reply. She knew she had hurt her child but there was only so much she could do. She was trying to make things right but it didn't matter unless Layla was willing to put forth an effort to meet her halfway. Layla was a headstrong, grown woman and Lisa was not going to beg. She and her husband did what they thought was best and she didn't regret it. She regretted not telling Layla as soon as she was old enough to understand, but she did not regret raising her child away from the negative influence of Cleveland and his issues.

"Mom, I just emailed you something. Will you look at it, please? It's a picture of someone I think is Cleveland." This was it for now. She just needed a yes or no. No small talk. She was still angry. If her parents had told her a long time ago, she could have met him before he died.

"Give me a minute." Lisa tried not to let it sting. No "How are you?" No "I'm fine." No "I'm ready to let it go." Just "Tell me if this is my father." Sitting at her desk, Lisa got online and opened her email account. She saw Layla's email, opened it, and clicked on the attachment. It loaded quickly. And it was him. Where did Layla get the picture? "Okay. I have it...That's him, Layla. Where did you find it?"

Cristian and Shaun both had their eyes fixated on Layla during the call as she sat at Shaun's computer.

"Are you sure?" Her voice wavered.

"I'm sure."

Layla took a deep breath. "Okay, thanks Mom. Tell...Uh, kiss Vange for me, okay?" She slowly lowered the phone from her ear, her mouth ajar, and hit the end button. She finally closed her mouth and looked at Shaun before swallowing. "It's him." She couldn't believe it. "You're my brother, Shaun." She watched as a grin spread across his face as he nodded.

_So Layla's my little sister. I got a niece on the way...Uncle Shaun. Damn._

Cristian took the opportunity to lighten the heavy mood and held out his hand to Shaun. "Well, welcome to the family, man."

Shaun took it and then looked at Layla, seeing a smile on her face for the first time since she'd walked through his door. "The annoying little sister I never had, huh?"

Layla dropped her jaw giving him her best _that's so wrong_ look and threw his notebook at him as he ducked. All three laughed.

Blair looked up from her desk when she heard a knock on her door. It was just after 8:30 on a Monday morning. Jennifer had already paged her to announce her visitor's arrival. "Come on in."

Cristian opened the door and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey. Come on in. Have a seat."

"Thanks." He sat down in one of the chairs facing her desk, a folder in his hand and a flash drive in his jacket pocket.

"So what's going on? How's Layla doing? Is she here?"

"No, she's home. She's really sick." He shook his head and sighed. "She can't keep anything down."

"Oh, that poor thing. It's hell being sick when you're pregnant." Blair's sympathy was written all over her face. "She thought she just had a cold on Friday."

"Yeah, I know. I'm taking her to the doctor today, I don't care what she says."

Blair smiled. "All they're going to do is give her some Tylenol and tell her to drink plenty of fluids. They don't like to give mommies-to-be much else."

Cristian stroked his growing goatee and nodded his head slowly. "I know, but I want to make sure she's going to be okay." He glanced at his watch. "Our appointment's at ten. I need to go by my mom's and get the soup she made when I leave here."

"Let me know if she needs anything. I'll try to call her this afternoon. I can at least give her some company for a little while."

Cristian chuckled. "She'll probably need that. She already tried to get me to go to the studio today so I'm pretty sure I'll be getting on her nerves by then." He continued to smile and shook his head. "She says I'm too much sometimes."

"Oh please, she'd be doing the same thing if you were sick and she knows it. You just can't help it."

Cristian smiled softly again before he shook his head slowly and a somber expression spread across his features. "I know...I just. I worry about her a lot." Blair watched as he swallowed a lump in his throat and heard his voice become slightly strained with his next words. "If something ever happened..." He shook the thought from his mind and cleared his throat, straightening his posture in his seat. "Anyway," he pulled the flash drive out of his pocket and reached over to place it and the folder on Blair's desk. "Layla said you needed the stuff she was working on for today."

She picked up the folder and frowned. "What the hell? She's sick as a dog and worrying about this?" Blair turned her attention from the folder back to her guest. "I'll tell you what. She won't be doing this on her maternity leave. She's going to be trying to get some sleep every chance she gets. Mark my words."

"Yeah." He sighed. "It's getting close to that time."

"Yeah." Blair smiled softly. "Are you ready?"

"I can't wait to meet her. I love her so much already and we haven't even seen each other yet. It's crazy how that's possible." Another sigh escaped him. "I'm a little nervous, though. I haven't been around many babies. I'm scared I'm going to drop her or get her bottle too warm or something."

Blair waved him off. "Cristian, I told you a long time ago you're gonna make a great daddy. You love that baby more than your own life, you're going to be fine. Both of you. Bottles and diapers and all that, you learn just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"That's what everybody says. I'm just anxious. I keep imagining what she's going to look like, what her personality is going to be like. She likes to keep her mom awake sometimes but all you really have to do is talk to her a little bit and she calms down." Another soft smile spread across his face as he thought about his little girl. "My hand's not quite back the way it was but I can't wait to paint her. Her and Layla. Layla doesn't know it yet but I've been working on a portrait of her while she's still pregnant. Then I want to do one of her and the baby after she's born."

"Oooh. Are you going to let me see the work in progress? You gotta let me see it."

Cristian chuckled. "Do I ever show anybody a work in progress?"

Blair waved him off again. "Fine. After everything we've been through, you want to be like that. Fine." She laughed and then her expression turned serious. "I'm really happy for you, Cristian. Out of everybody I know, you deserve all the happiness in the world the most."

"So do you, Blair. Don't ever think you don't."

Blair nodded and smiled as a small, comfortable silence surrounded the two friends. Cristian then glanced at his watch again and began to rise from his seat. "I better get going. I want to get that soup before my mom gets too busy and get back to Layla."

"Okay. I'll call her after lunch to see how the appointment went. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay. Have fun with that." Cristian pointed to the paperwork on Blair's desk on his way out the door.

Cristian heard a "Yeah right" as the door closed behind him.

"Hey."

"Hey, Shaun. Come on in." Cristian let his brother-in-law in the house.

"Ooh. It's kind of warm in here, isn't it?" Warm was an understatement. It was hot as hell.

Cristian nodded in agreement. "Hell yeah it is. But I gotta keep my wife comfortable." He shrugged.

"See why I'm not married?" Shaun shook himself out of his coat, made himself comfortable on the couch, and turned his attention to the basketball game playing on the big screen LCD television in the living room. UNC were kicking ass so it wasn't much of a game.

Cristian looked toward his bedroom on his way into the kitchen and feigned fear. "She's going to hear you, man. Better watch it."

"How's she doing?"

"Not much better. She's been eating some soup so that's something." Cristian turned from the refrigerator with two beers in his hands and headed towards the couch.

Shaun took one from Cristian's hand as he sat. "Thanks." He settled back into the couch. "So everything's okay with my niece?"

Cristian nodded, his eyes on the game. Outside of his own boxing, which was mostly for his mental and emotional processes in hindsight, he was never big into sports. He would watch, go to some games on occasion, but they were never his major pastime. He really only had the game on because he got caught up in a bracket pool down at the community center in Angel Square. It was March Madness. And NCAA basketball was so much better than the NBA. "Doc says they're going to be fine."

Shaun took another swig of his beer. "That's good. She laying down?"

Cristian nodded again. "Yeah." He reached up and scratched his ear. "She's still got a fever, though. I'm trying not to call the doctor again."

Shaun turned to face him. "She's supposed to be able to take Tylenol, right?"

Cristian sighed. "Yeah. That's what she took. Hopefully it'll be gone when she wakes up." He turned in the direction of his bedroom, concern etched on his tired face. He wished there was something more he could do. He didn't know which was worse: seeing his wife cry or seeing her sick. Sick and nearly eight months' pregnant. She was miserable and he didn't know how to make it better. He hated it. Hated seeing her so fragile and not being able to do anything about it. He was still being haunted by nightmares, wasn't getting nearly enough sleep, felt drained by every difficult therapy session he committed himself to attending, had a big art show in Philadelphia to prepare for, and now his wife was sick. He was so incredibly happy with his new family and his successful career, but there was so much stress at the same time. He prayed every night for the strength to get through it all with his wife and his daughter unscathed by his side.

Shaun noticed Cristian's worried expression. And the bags under his eyes. The brother was getting no sleep. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and turned his head in his brother-in-law's direction. "Hey."

Cristian turned to face him.

"I know this whole sister thing is new for me but...I've always liked Layla. Always thought she was a good woman. I'm really glad she has you." And he meant it. Vincent was his brother. Always would be. They went through some serious stuff together. And it put him in an odd position. Vincent wanted Natalie Buchanan and hurt Layla--his new sister--in the worst way to get what he wanted. He could be ruthless in getting what he wanted. Vega knew all about that.

Still, he wondered how Cristian and Layla even happened. Cristian was serious with Layla's sister not long before. Some major soap opera-type shit it was. But Vega was good people. His little sister was in good hands.

Cristian nodded, accepting the compliment gracefully. "And I'm glad she has you for a brother. I know you'll look out for her whenever I can't." Then he added, "I'm trying to ignore the Vincent factor."

Shaun leaned back into the couch and nodded. "Fair enough. And as her big brother, I'll kick your ass if you ever get out of line."

"You can try, Shaun." He took a sip of his beer and smirked. "You can always try."

Shaun snorted softly. "The way you look, bruh, it won't be hard."

Cristian only shrugged. "Didn't get much sleep last night." The eternal excuse. Dredging up the past was absolute hell on his mind and body. He knew everyone could tell something was wrong with him. But the last thing he wanted was for everyone to know his past was coming back to haunt him and walk on eggshells around him while drowning him with their pity and concern. His mother was trying not to smother him. She knew he was married--and had been for more than one day this time--so she was trying to let his wife take care of him and his problems. But she still looked at him with so much worry and pain every time she saw him.

The game ended. Shaun got up to throw his beer bottle away. "That was easy. Sweet Sixteen probably won't be. They'll be playing--"

"Cristian! Cris!"

Cristian heard Layla call his name, a distinct sound of fear in her voice that immediately rattled him and got him off the couch in less than half a second. Shaun looked after him, a crease in his brow as he wondered what was wrong. Throwing the cracked bedroom door open, Cristian raced over to his wife's side. She was sitting up straight in the bed, her breathing heavy, her face and neck moist with sweat. "Cris."

Settling himself on the edge of the bed, he frantically searched her face. "What is it? What's wrong? What's the matter?" He was soon at a loss for words when she wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly he could barely breathe.

"You're okay...Oh my gosh..."

Rubbing her back, he felt her shivering and how hot and damp her body was to the touch.

"That was so real. I was so scared." Her voice became a breathy whisper as she tried to catch her breath. "Oh my gosh..."

"Layla, you're burning up." He struggled to speak with the vice grip she had on his neck. "How long ago did you take the Tylenol?"

"Mmm. I don't know, Cristian," she moaned. She continued to shiver and hold on to her husband for dear life. "I don't know...I was...That...That dream..."

"Layla, hey," he gently pried her arms from around his neck and held her hands and glimpsed at his watch before looking into her feverish face. "I think it's been like four hours. It should be working by now."

"You have to stop scaring me like that, Cristian..."

He unwrapped his right hand from her left and gently pressed the back of it all over her flushed face. "That Tylenol isn't working."

"I thought you were..."

He lifted her chin so she looked him in the eye. The fever must have precipitated whatever bad dream about him she must have had. "Layla, sweetheart, I'm fine, okay? I'm fine. I'm right here. But we need to get you better. Are you feeling any worse?"

She shook her head. "I'm just cold."

He breathed a sigh of relief that she was finally taking her focus off of the dream and back to the present. "Okay. Here." He rose from the bed and reached down for the covers. "Here. Lie back down. Get back under the covers." As he brought the sheets to her chin, he continued. "I'm going to go get the thermometer again."

Walking out of their bedroom to get the thermometer that was left in the living room, he remembered Shaun's presence as he saw him standing by the couch anxiously. "Everything okay?"

"Oh. She just...had a bad dream. But her fever's not down yet." He grabbed the thermometer from the end table and hastily proceeded to the kitchen to clean it off. "There might be something wrong."

"What did the doctor say it was?" Shaun walked over to the island and leaned forward against it.

"Flu. And she only wants her taking Tylenol. I better call her."

"You might want to give it a little more time, Cristian. Flu just has to run its course."

Cristian turned his back to the sink and faced his companion. "What if it's not the flu? Doctors can make mistakes, you know." He headed back towards their bedroom, thermometer in hand.

Shaun followed him. "True. But if she's only had one dose, you might want to wait a little bit before--"

"Okay, here we go." Cristian sat on the edge of the bed again and placed the digital thermometer underneath Layla's tongue. He was feeling completely on edge again. He was worried and that never set well with sleep deprivation.

She noticed Shaun lingering in the open doorway and spoke around the thermometer in her mouth. "Hey."

"Hey. I know you're not feeling well so I won't ask." He smiled softly and Layla returned it.

Soon the thermometer beeped and Cristian read the display. "102."

Layla groaned and closed her eyes tightly. "I'll just take some more Tylenol in an hour. You have to give it some time to work." She shivered violently and wrapped the covers around herself even tighter. Before she continued, she purposefully looked her husband in the face. "I'm not going back to the doctor, buster. And we don't need to call her. I'm going to be fine in a few days just like she said."

Cristian sighed heavily. They were outnumbering him. "Okay. We'll see what happens tomorrow. If it's not down by then, I'm calling the doctor."

Layla rolled her eyes. Shaun chuckled. "Shaun, take him out somewhere, please. He's driving himself crazy. And me."

Cristian held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll try to relax." He sighed again. "Adriana's coming over anyway. I'll try to take a nap while she's here, okay?"

Layla frowned. "Cristian I don't feel like anymore company. Blair calls me. Talia stops by. Your mom calls. My brother comes by. No offense, Shaun."

Shaun smiled again. "I can take a hint. I'm on my way out. Take it easy, Layla, okay?"

"Thanks, Shaun."

"Yeah, thanks, Shaun."

"No problem. I'll let myself out. Call if you anything, you hear?"

"We will." Cristian watched Shaun leave and turned back to his wife. "You want me to call Adriana?"

Layla nodded. "I'll talk to her later."

"Okay." He leaned forward and kissed her on her sweat-laced forehead. Then he rose and got a damp, warm washcloth before returning to the bed to gently wipe her face.

When he was finished, they stared into each others' eyes for a moment without a word. Then, Layla spoke, her voice calm and soft. "Thank you."

He spoke softly in return. "Anytime, Beautiful."

"I want you to stay with me but I don't want you to get sick."

"I've had my flu shot. I don't care." He grabbed the phone and called his cousin. After he hung up, he reached down and took his shoes off before climbing on the bed beside her. It was so hot in the condo, he didn't want to crawl underneath the covers but he did anyway.

She felt him wrap his arms around her and snuggled into his side. She felt like hell and decided she could be a little selfish in that moment and take what he offered to give. She didn't want him to get sick in spite of the flu shot she had failed to get herself because she never got sick, but he always made her feel better. When she was in his arms. Always. And she and her daughter needed it. Her dream became a distant memory as they both fell asleep. Maybe that had been all she needed. Him. When they woke up two hours later so she could take some more medicine, her fever had lessened.

Cristian and Layla entered Capricorn Friday evening for a night of entertainment and relaxation after a tough week. Jill Scott was playing and the house was packed. Both having been former employees--and relatives of the owner--they had one of the best tables reserved but came early anyway to socialize. It had a been awhile since either of them had ventured to the club on non-business related purposes and they wanted to have a good time catching up with friends.

Sarah Buchanan was busy filling a drink order when she saw the two of them chatting it up with Shanelle. She didn't like Layla very much. Sarah had no problem admitting it to herself: she was jealous. When she first came to town, she had lived with Cristian for a couple of months. But he never noticed her. When they were both working at Capricorn, he never noticed her. When she went over and beyond to book Timbaland during her booking days, he still never noticed her. When he left after his art career took off, she saw him less and less and before she knew it, she heard rumblings that he was involved with her. Layla. Every time she saw them together last year, she always felt they were a little too close to be _just_ friends. And it irked her. Now they were married. _Ugh._ What did he see in her? He could do so much better. With her.

Karla, a fellow waitress, interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, there's Cris. He hasn't been by here in forever. I miss him. He was way easy to work for. And waaaay easy to look at, you know what I'm saying?"

Sarah frowned. _Why does he have his hand on her back like that? Look at her. It's not like anybody's going to try to push up on some huge pregnant chick._ "Yeah."

"Layla's looking good. She's definitely got the glow. Don't you just hate her?" Karla smiled, taking all the sting from her rhetorical question.

Sarah shrugged. "I just don't know what he sees in her. And who would _marry_ her sister's boyfriend while she's in a coma?"

"What?"

"Yeah. He used to date her sister. Before you and I started here..."

"Damn."

"And that baby cannot be his. She looks like she's about to pop any minute now and you know they _just_ got together _right_ after she broke up with my cousin's boyfriend. That's probably his baby."

"Well, whatever. That's their business. I gotta go take care of this."

Sarah continued to watch Cristian and Layla as Karla left and joined Shanelle who'd finally seated the Vegas and gone back to her duties. Sarah hadn't seen him in awhile but he was still just as beautiful as ever. His hair was much longer and he'd grown a goatee. That gave him a certain bad boy edge that was even sexier. Just then, Mary whizzed by. "Hey, Mary. I'll get that table." _Their table_.

"Oh, okay. Thanks. Tell Cris and Layla I said, 'Hi.' I might not get over there to talk to them at all before it's over. It's crazy tonight."

"Yeah, it is." Sarah headed over to Cristian and Layla's table after dropping off the drink order she was working on. They were huddled together in their booth. Layla was going through her purse while Cristian lightly nuzzled the side of her face, his arm around her. The place was buzzing with boisterous energy but he was in his own world with his wife. _Oh, get a room._ Once she reached their table, Sarah put a smile on her face. "Hey, Boss!"

Cristian stopped his nuzzling--his wife smelled like heaven--and turned to face the newcomer interrupting his groove. "Oh. Hey. Sarah. How've you been?"

Layla looked up from her bag. _Mm. That girl is so obvious._ Layla still didn't know why Cristian had let her live with him last summer. She must have thrown a tantrum or something and Cristian was just being Cristian and couldn't turn her away. And Sarah so clearly jonesed for him. Layla couldn't blame her. But she was so _obvious_ about it back when they were all working at Capricorn while Cristian steadily paid her no mind. And Layla knew Sarah couldn't stand her. Which was why she was focusing on Cristian and ignoring her. And the feeling was pretty much mutual.

"I've been okay I guess. It's been awhile. You been hiding from me?" She giggled. Layla rolled her eyes. "I love the new look." Sarah deepened her voice. "_Very_ sexy."

"Uh, thanks."

Layla kept her laugh to herself. Cristian's "thanks" came out like a question. He was never good at accepting compliments on his physical appearance, but he clearly thought this was just...weird.

"So, how's the music going?" Cristian shifted in his seat but didn't remove his arm from around his wife. He was feeling uncomfortable so he wanted to change the subject.

"It's not. At least not now." Sarah tugged on her left earring. "Hey, I meant to ask. Did you ever find that pink thong I lost? I know I must've left it at your place. It's probably back behind your bed somewhere."

Layla's _what the fuck_ expression matched that of Cristian's. _I know this little heffa did not just say that._

"I don't live there anymore, Sarah. And we didn't find anything of yours when I moved out."

Sarah shrugged. "Oh, well, never mind then. No biggie." She finally decided to address Layla. "Does his snoring keep you awake?" She shook her head as if in remembrance. "It's like a jackhammer. And I've never seen a guy walk around half-naked all the time like he's--"

"Sarah, I think that's your manager over there. You probably don't want to piss him off standing over here talking to us. And we were kind of having a private moment." He turned his head and placed a kiss on Layla's earlobe. He didn't know why but, clearly, Sarah was losing her mind and his wife was not one to play games.

Layla didn't answer Sarah's question. Just kept a steely gaze going in her direction.

Sarah shrugged Cristian's "concern" off. "Oh, don't worry about it. This is my table."

_Of course._ Cristian turned to his wife again. _Drinks. Let's order drinks._ "Do you know what you want to drink, _mi amor_?"

Layla kept her eyes on Sarah and stated simply. "Lemonade."

Cristian turned back to Sarah. "Two lemonades." Layla couldn't drink alcohol on their night out so he wouldn't either.

"Okay. Coming right up." Sarah turned to leave to get their drinks--and try really hard not to put something in Layla's since she _was_ pregnant--but stopped as another thought came to her. She was having too much fun. "Antonio said you had a show coming up in Philly really soon. Let me know if you need a date." She glanced at Layla. "I know she's not really into the whole artist scene like you and me."

Cristian was exasperated now and it showed in his tone. "The drinks, Sarah?"

"I'll totally be available for opening night." She leaned forward and stroked his arm. "Let me know."

"Okay. You know what?...This has been _real_ amusing, sweetheart, but I'm bored now." Layla slowly slipped out of Cristian's grasp and started to slide out of the booth. "First, you try to flirt with my husband. Then you try to make me think he slept with you when," she released a snort, "I _know_ he's got much better taste and sense than that." She was almost out of the booth now, Cristian sliding right behind her. "And if you ever slept within a 50 foot vicinity of him you would know...My baby doesn't snore." She finally eased her pregnant frame out of the booth and started with one of her earrings. "And now you actually got the damn nerve..." She placed her earring on the table. "...to ask him to take you out on a date in front of me because _clearly_--"

"Layla, babe--" Cristian stood behind his wife, his hands on her hips as gently as he could manage. He didn't want to appear to be holding her back because she wouldn't appreciate him restraining her. Layla did not play.

"--you think I'm just going to sit here--" She placed her other earring on the table and started towards her target. "And let you disrespect me--"

"Babe--"

"--and push up on my husband." Layla tried to remove Cristian's hands from her waist but he wrapped his strong arms around her and held her back against his chest.

"Layla, honey, it's okay--"

"No. No, it's not. This little bitch thinks I'm playing with her." She continued to struggle to free herself from her husband's grasp while their altercation was garnering the attention of a few onlookers nearby who sensed the commotion over the loud music and conversation.

Initially a little nervous--hell, scared--when Layla rose from her seat, Sarah felt her courage rise once her antagonist was safely restrained. "What are you going to do? You think I'm scared of some hormone crazy bitch--"

Cristian quickly turned his attention to Sarah, his eyes flaring. "Knock it the hell off!" Then he brought it back to his wife, lifting her off of her feet slightly to turn her so that Sarah was out of her sights. "It's okay, _querida_. Just calm down a little bit for me, okay? Forget her. She's gone, okay. Forget her." She finally stopped struggling and tried to calm down. She couldn't remember the last time she was this blazed. Layla wasn't going to admit it to that obnoxious little bitch in training but maybe her hormones _were_ making her a little crazy. She was about to deliver a beatdown to a little ass girl not worth her time or energy. How did she let her get to her? Damn fine as hell husband of hers. He brought out her protective, jealous nature and brought it out fierce. Chicks loved to buzz around him like bees to honey. Damn him.

Sarah was a little stung at the venom in Cristian's words but refused to let it show on her face. Instead, she looked around at everyone milling about no longer paying her any attention and walked back to the bar. LeShunda behind the bar gave her an obvious _you almost got your ass kicked_ look before returning to mix some drinks. Embarrassed and pissed, Sarah chucked her notepad and went up to her boss. She didn't need this shitty job anyway. She was a Buchanan for god's sake. A rich, impulsive one. She had stayed because she grew to like it and wanted to try her hand at independence from Buchanan money while she waited for her music career to take off. And Cristian had been the sexiest boss on the planet. But he was gone and clearly wasn't coming back. And he was so pussy whipped by that bitch it wasn't funny. Whatever. "I quit. I'm out of here."

Sensing she had herself under control, Cristian eyeballed the few onlookers who quickly tried to go on with their business and turned Layla around in his arms. "Hey, you okay?" He searched her face for several seconds, trying to draw her eyes from Sarah's retreating form to his.

Layla took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm sorry." She sighed heavily and looked around to see if anyone was still watching while rubbing her belly. Her little girl must have sensed her agitation and was definitely riled up. _Mama's sorry, baby girl._

"Sorry for what? Don't worry about it." He pulled her into his arms and held her close, no one paying any attention to them as the club pulsated with even more energy the closer it got to show time. He loved the hell out of his wife. Beautiful, strong, passionate, and fierce. She was going to be the best mother as she was already the best wife, lover, and friend. And although he would probably never admit it to her, he loved how protective she was of him. Her husband. He was the same damn way. Someone could try to push up on his wife if they wanted to. He didn't play that shit either.

With her hair pulled back smoothly in a ponytail at the nape of her neck with a diamond--cubic zirconium--encrusted clip that matched her _diamond_ gumdrop earrings, Layla stood in front of one of her husband's pieces. He was busy chatting it up with his many guests so she busied herself by looking at some of his work she had never seen before while berating herself for wearing those heels. Those ridiculously cute Louboutin heels Cristian surprised her with on her 27th birthday late last year before they were married that went ridiculously perfectly with the cornflower blue, just-above-the-knee length dress with the spaghetti straps and empire waist she was wearing. She knew she shouldn't wear them. Her feet were going to hurt. Her back was going to hurt. But, dammit, she wanted to look good for Cristian's opening, the first opening of his she was going to attend. And sometimes, with her, fashion sense overrode common sense. She sighed. She was tired. She was going to go sit down in one of those plush couches again in a minute. She stretched her back. _Yep. In a minute._

"That's a fantastic piece, isn't it?"

Layla quickly looked to her right to acknowledge the woman who approached admiring the same painting. She nodded. She was so proud of him. Lindsay had gotten him a show in Philadelphia and from what she was overhearing it was a total success. He had already had shows in Llanview, Chicago, New York, and Pittsburgh, and their very memorable trip to Paris had led to negotiations about a showing there that had finally been finalized a few days ago. Cristian was having the time of his life in his career aspirations and Layla was so grateful. He had his art and the impending birth of their first child to help him get through the trauma of his past. "It is."

"So much juxtaposition going on. My professor is going to love this when she sees it."

"Oh. You're an art student?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes. Bryn Mawr. She's a real connoisseur of local and regional artists. We spent a lot of time on Cristian's work not too long ago. Some of his older stuff she found compared to the new style. It's really awesome." The woman looked away from Cristian's painting and saw him several feet away carrying on a conversation with a small group of people.

"That's pretty cool. He'd probably love to hear that."

The woman turned back to the painting and shook her head, a sheepish smile on her face. "I don't want to bother him. And, honestly, I'll probably just look like a blabbering idiot anyway. Look at him." She and Layla both turned to look at the focus of their conversation. "I wonder if he models on the side."

Layla only smiled before turning back to her companion. "I wouldn't worry about it. He's really easy to talk to."

"Oh. Do you know him?"

Layla didn't want to embarrass her so she only replied, "Yeah. Um, I'll introduce you when he's--" She turned in Cristian's direction again and saw that he was gone, the individuals he was conversing with still there, all seeming to have confused expressions on their faces. "Did you see where he went?" The woman shook her head. Curious about the looks on the patrons' faces, Layla walked over to the group.

"How weird was that?" She heard one of them say.

"Artists. You know how they can be." She heard from another who shrugged.

"Um, hey." She looked around at the group as she arrived. "Where did he go?" she asked as casually as he could.

A short man with horn-rimmed glasses and long hair slicked back into a ponytail as neatly as hers answered. "He left." He pointed in the direction of the double doors leading to foyer. "I don't know what happened. We were just talking and all of a sudden he looked like he saw a ghost and took off."

_Oh no._ Layla quickly started on her way through the double doors. It must have happened again. His night terrors were beginning to seek him out during the day. He could be at work and the flashbacks would hit him suddenly. Like nighttime wasn't enough for them. Like his mind was working overtime to purge itself of all the trauma and needed more hours during the day to get it done. She exited the gallery and looked around. Her breath was shallow. _Outside. He's probably outside._

Cristian leaned against the railing and looked out at the night sky, trying to breathe the cool April air into his lungs and clear his mind. That guy. The one with the glasses. He looked like one of them. From the ship. He continued to breathe heavily and looked down, his eyes closed. He wanted to scream. When was this going to end? When the hell was this going to end??? He couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't strong enough for this.

Shaking his head one more time, he hoped he had it under control and started back into the building. It was his opening night and he needed to be there. Layla or Lindsay might be looking for him and he didn't want them to worry. When he opened the door, he saw several people rushing somewhere around the corner. Curious, he headed in the same direction. When he rounded the corner he heard and saw someone on a cell phone. "...pregnant woman. She just collapsed."

His heart palpitated. There was a small crowd blocking his view. He rushed over. _It's not Layla. It's NOT Layla..._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Cristian continued to pray that the fallen pregnant woman was not his wife. He could berate himself later for being selfish and only hoping she wasn't Layla first before hoping she was okay. A few yards away now, he felt his knees begin to give way beneath him, slowing his trek toward the small crowd. The first thing he saw were her feet, unobstructed by the gathering of bystanders. _Ay Dios._ That was what he got for being selfish. The black woman's feet were adorned with those Cristian Louboutin heels Layla loved. Forcing his legs to work again, Cristian pushed through the gathering of people and fell to his knees by his wife's unconscious side. "Layla...Layla!" A few people were on their knees gently trying to awaken the woman knowing at least one other individual had called 911. All three were forced to scoot back when the showcased artist--Cristian Vega--came from nowhere and desperately called the woman's name.

Cristian ran his right hand up and down her face repeatedly, his left beneath her head providing a cushion between it and the cold floor, the anguish threatening to consume him as he tried to revive her through his voice and his touch. "Layla...Come on, Beautiful. Layla, please." Oh God. Was she breathing?

"There's an ambulance on the way," he heard someone say.

"Layla, come on...Layla!" He continued to stroke her face before moving his hand to her chest. He felt the slight rise and fall and in turn allowed himself to breathe again. _Gracias a Dios._ He suddenly looked up at the small gathering. "What happened? Did anybody see what happened?"

A woman he remembered seeing in the gallery answered. "She looked dizzy for a minute, then she just fell."

Cristian turned his attention back to his wife as he felt her head move. "Layla?" He placed his hand on her face again, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. "Layla, come on, _querida_, wake up for me. Wake up."

Layla moaned as she moved her head from side to side. _What happened?_ She saw an angel above her, calling her name. He was smiling, like he was so glad to see her. _Where have I been?_ Her vision slowly began to clear. _Cristian._ Her angel.

"Layla, are you okay? Are you okay?" He grinned as she looked to be trying to focus on him. "Look at me. I'm right here." He held it together. He had to hold it together. In front of all these people. He couldn't let it show. He wouldn't.

_Huh?_ She groaned again. The multi-colored stars were nearly gone. "Cris...I was looking for you." _What the hell happened?_ "What happened?"

"I think you fainted, Beautiful." He heard sirens. From the intensity of the sound, he ascertained they were already outside of the building. "I think the ambulance is here. You're going to be okay, okay? We're going to get you to the hospital and make sure everything's okay."

_Hospital?_ "Mmm. I think I'm okay now." The last moments before she woke up with a bunch of strangers and an angel staring at her began to come back to her. "I just got a little woozy all of a sudden." She put her right hand to her forehead and grimaced. A headache was brewing. She tried to rise from the floor but her husband gently stopped her upward motion.

"Just lie back, Layla. Don't move."

"Hey. Oh my God. What happened?" Lindsay suddenly appeared at their sides. "Layla, honey, are you okay?"

Layla slowly nodded her head and caught sight of two paramedics heading towards her with a stretcher. _Oh this is just great._ She didn't want to ride in the ambulance. She already felt much better. All the extra weight she was carrying around wreaking havoc with her center of gravity--and those sky high heels--she must have been moving too fast, trying to find her husband. She'd never been on a stretcher in an ambulance before. The first and last time she was in an ambulance at all was that horrible night she often tried to forget when Cristian had been stabbed. And of all nights for this to happen. This was supposed to be Cristian's night.

She heard her husband address Lindsay. "She just collapsed. I don't know what happened." Everyone moved to the side, except for Cristian, as the paramedics settled beside her. She was tired. She wanted to close her eyes. She answered their questions in a slight haze and tried to hold on to her still visibly shaken husband's hand as she was wheeled to the waiting ambulance.

"Cristian, I'll take care of everything here, okay?" Lindsay reassured her favorite artist as she watched him leave the building by his wife's side.

He hastily answered her. "Thanks." He noticed Layla had closed her eyes again and her grip on his hand was non-existent. She wasn't okay.

"Mr. Vega?"

"Yes." Cristian rose from the chair in the waiting room and walked over to whom he assumed was the doctor. He had literally only been sitting for a minute after having worn out a distinctive path in the already well-worn carpet.

"Everything's fine. Your wife and the baby are doing great and everything's going to be fine." The doctor turned and started walking, indicating that Cristian should follow. "Layla just developed some pregnancy-induced anemia. It's not terribly uncommon during the last trimester when the growing baby starts taking more of mommy's supply. All we need to do is increase her iron supplements so this doesn't happen again, okay?"

Cristian nodded, taking everything in. Layla had been more tired than usual the past couple of weeks but she attributed it to the normal symptoms of third trimester pregnancy. They entered Layla's semi-private examination room in the ER as the doctor continued talking.

"Layla says she has an appointment coming up in a couple of days with her regular doctor. I'm sure they would have caught it then." He turned to his patient for the last time. "Okay, Layla. I'm going to get the nurse in here with your release forms so you can get out of here and go to bed and get some rest. Take care, huh?" He smiled as he left the room.

"Thanks." Layla sighed and studied her husband as he studied her from the foot of the bed. She looked and sounded much better than she had a couple of hours before. "Hey." She held out her hand. Cristian slowly walked over and took it, settling himself on the edge of her bed. "We're okay, now. I'm going to take the extra iron and we're going to be as good as new."

She watched as he nodded slowly and without a word, pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She hated that she had scared him. Cristian didn't scare. But his grasp, his breathing, his quiet intensity as he held onto her without a spoken word somehow managed to say it all. She had scared him to death.

Several days later, back in Llanview, Layla sat in bed with her back against the headboard supported by a pillow looking over the lengthy list of baby names she and her husband had made. Their future family member was busy moving around while listening to the Spanish being played to her through the headphones on her mother's belly. Time was running out on them and they were determined to have a name for the birth certificate the minute their daughter was born. There was still so much decision to be made. They knew they wanted a name with Latin roots and one with African roots but they hadn't decided which would be their child's first name and which would be her middle name. She had thought about a name in tribute to her sister but something about that spoke death to her. Though she fought against it so incredibly hard, her hope was fading every day that went by with no call from her mother saying Evangeline had woken up. Still, she didn't want to name her child after her sister because she felt it would validate the idea stubbornly forming in her mind that Evangeline was never going to wake up.

"Layla, did you get into that lamaze class you wanted yet?" Cristian stood at the bathroom mirror after his shower with his shaver working around his goatee. He had already finished with the blow dryer. Long hair meant more work since he was not about to go to bed with wet hair. Layla had told him she loved when his hair was longer and he had the goatee. She'd never said anything to him then, but times had certainly changed. She had asked him to grow them back. So he had. He'd keep them for a little while he supposed. Somehow, the longer hair and facial hair correlated with the tougher times in his life. There were no regular trips to the barber on that ship. Nor in prison, although the longer hair and moustache helped perpetrate the _Don't fuck with me_ attitude he had to develop to survive. Now, although he had so much joy in his life and so much to look forward to, he was yet again going through a particularly rough time. Trying to remember--and forget--all those horrible things from his past.

"Um, yeah." She _had_ signed up for a lamaze class but it wasn't exactly the one she had heard about with the instructor that she wanted.

"When does it start? What time?"

"It starts this Saturday at one."

Cristian stood in the bathroom doorway. "Saturday? I thought you said it was going to be during the week sometime after work."

Layla continued to look at the notebook in her hands and shrugged. "Nope. Six Saturdays. One to three."

"She changed the time?" He wandered back into the attached bathroom to look in the mirror.

_Why does he ask so many questions???_ Layla sighed. She had made it in time to sign up for the class she wanted but it was only offered on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, the same time as Cristian's therapy sessions. She always went with him and sat right outside the door in the waiting room. Always. Except the one week she was sick. He never asked her to go with him but he never asked her to stop coming either. If she went to the lamaze class, not only would she have to take someone else with her when Cristian was going to be the one in the delivery room with her, she wouldn't be able to go with him like she always did to Dr. Green's office. She would be in class trying to focus on her breathing but her mind would be off with her husband wondering if he would be okay when he was finished. Sometimes, he would exit his doctor's office and walk over to her as white as a sheet, all the life and energy completely drained from him, and she never wanted him to be alone after one of those sessions. "No."

He stood in the doorway again, patting a towel on his face. "So you didn't get into the class you wanted?"

_Good grief._ She set the notebook in her lap and looked at him. His long, soft, wayward curls framed the chiseled features of his face. He looked like a goatee-ed angel. "I signed up for the Saturday one instead because the one I wanted is only offered on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

He dropped his hands to his side. "You didn't need to do that, Layla. I could try to reschedule my appointments--"

Layla shook her head. "You know he doesn't have any other times open in the evenings, Cristian."

"I can move them to the mornings at least until your classes are over. I can work whenever, you know that. I want you to take the class you wanted, Layla." He turned to hang the towel up and walked over to the bed and climbed in under the covers.

"If you move your appointments to the morning I won't be able to make it. I have to work."

He looked at her. She had no idea how much it meant to him that she always came. She was always there. If it ever got to be too much for him, he was comforted by the fact that he could break from Barry's office and seek solace in her arms. He spoke softly. "I can make it a few times without you, _querida_. I'll be okay."

Layla shook her head again and picked up the notebook and pen. "Sorry. I'll be too worried if I'm not there. Anyway, it's too late now." She sighed heavily and turned to Cristian. "So, let's work on this list." She turned back to the notebook.

Deciding to let it go, Cristian sighed, picked up the remote control, and turned the volume down on the television. "Okay. So what are we doing? Picking a first name first? Then seeing what sounds good with that?"

"That's the plan but look at how long this list is? Okay. First name. Latin or African?" She looked at Cristian and waited for his response.

"Well, the last name is Vega. That shows her Hispanic lineage right there."

"Yeah...but then that'll be two Spanish names together if we pick one for her middle name."

Cristian shrugged. "That'll be okay. I have three in a row and I'm not traumatized." He couldn't stop the smirk from creeping to his face.

Layla gave him her best evil eye before deciding to keep her retort to herself. "So you're voting for an African first name?"

"What do you want?"

Layla tapped the pen on her chin as she thought. "I think I'm leaning towards a Spanish first name. I mean, just looking at her, everyone will know she's part black. If her first name is Hispanic, it'll really show where she comes from, right?"

Cristian nodded slowly, digesting what she said. "True...but what if she just takes after me? Look at Karen and Don. She's white, he's about your complexion, and their son has blonde hair and green eyes."

"Cuz that baby ain't his." She mumbled under her breath.

Cristian laughed out loud. "Layla."

"What? Don't act like you don't think the same thing."

"I don't!" He continued to chuckle.

"Right. Anyway, I know it's entirely possible but don't worry about that, buster." She pointed to herself. "These genes will have their say, thank you very much." She simulated a bow and laughed.

He laughed again and looked at his wife seriously. "I hope they do."

She smiled softly to him and reached over and squeezed his thigh through the covers. Turning back to the notebook, she spoke. "So what do you think?"

"Alright. We'll go through all the Spanish names and see which one really grabs us. If none of them do, we'll choose an African name, okay?"

"Okay." She snuggled into his arms as he slid into her space and wrapped his left arm around her so they could look at the list together. "Belicia. It means 'dedicated to God.'"

She shook her head at the same time he gave his negative answer. "I like the meaning but, nah." He grabbed the pen and crossed the name off.

They kept at it for another hour before lightning struck and they settled on their first child's name.

"What about this one?"

"Mmmm...no. The front's okay but I don't like the back." Layla frowned as Adriana pointed out the red bridesmaid dress that would fit over Layla's belly and match the other bridesmaids' dresses as closely as possible. The color scheme for Luis and Adriana's wedding was red and white. Adriana, with the help of her best friend, had chosen a white strapless A-line wedding gown with red trim.

"Okay, look at this one. It comes in red. Now that's cute."

"Yeah, but it doesn't really match the other dresses, does it?"

"It's fine. As long as it's the same shade and material, it's fine. You're the matron of honor, and you're the only one who's pregnant, so it's okay if your dress is a slightly different style. See, it's the same length and everything."

"Hey, it's your wedding, girl. I'll wear whatever you want me to wear."

Adriana sighed and turned to her friend while closing the magazine. "Yeah, but I don't want you wearing a dress you hate!" She opened the magazine again and flipped through the pages.

"I didn't say I hated it. It's cute. I just thought we might be able to find something that matches a little better. This is all your fault, anyway. Setting the date for the end of April when I'll be due in a month and big as a house."

"Nobody told you to go and get pregnant when you had a wedding to be in."

Layla laughed. "Oh, don't even try it. I was pregnant _before_ you got engaged and set the date."

"Okay, that's true." Adriana chuckled and leaned into her friend's shoulder as they sat on her couch. "But you know we wanted a spring wedding."

"Okay, so how about spring 2009?"

"Oh, look at who's trying to _delay_ a wedding when it's not _hers_.

"Okay, I walked right into that one." She smiled as the dress caught her eye. "Ooh. Now this is it. This is the one."

Adriana nodded as she looked over Layla's shoulder at the magazine she was flipping through. "Okay. That is better."

"It's like the same dress as the other bridesmaids'. Who makes it?...Well, it's a different designer but that is so the same dress. Phew! Girl, this took a minute!"

"We better hurry up and order it, too. I don't know why we waited so long to get your dress..."

Layla sighed. "You know it's just been one thing after another." Layla closed the magazine and set it aside. "Now we have to find some shoes that aren't going to kill my feet."

"Yep." Adriana reached for another magazine for shoe style suggestions. Then a thought struck her. Here she was, preparing for her wedding with her best friend like she'd always dreamed about. She wondered if Layla felt she missed out on the same experience. Her best friend was already married and she didn't get the chance to help her pick out a dress or anything else from the style of her hair to the color of her toenail polish. She had sent her cousin off to Paris with an engagement ring in tow and he returned a week later with a wife. But Layla and Cristian had done what they wanted to do. Not everyone had dreams of large, extravagant weddings. "Hey, I thought you guys were going to do another ceremony since all of us missed out on the original because someone just couldn't _wait_ to marry my cousin," Adriana teased.

Layla smirked and then shrugged. "We were. But we haven't even talked about it. If he still wants to do it, I'll do it, but I don't really care. I don't need it. I didn't miss out on anything." She smiled softly in remembrance. "It was so beautiful, Adriana. It was crazy how perfect it was. Weather and everything." She shrugged again. "It's just not going to be the same with some formal ceremony in front of everybody."

"It's not supposed to be the same. Another ceremony won't be for you. It's for us! We missed it, remember? I really wanted to see you in a wedding gown and help you pick out all the trimmings and all that stuff."

Layla reached over and hugged her friend. "Aw, thanks, babe." She sat back. "Like I said, I'll have to see if Cris wants to do it after this kid is born. If not, maybe we can do one of those vow renewal ceremonies in ten years or something."

"I'm just teasing, girl. As long as your wedding day was perfect for _you_ nothing else matters, right? Besides, you've got a much bigger day to worry about coming up soon."

Layla sighed explosively as she shifted on the couch. "Girl, tell me about it. This is seriously not comfortable anymore. Cristian says I'm waddling now."

"You are."

"I am not."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not!"

"Okay, you're not." Adriana rolled her eyes.

"_Anyway_, I'm ready to get this over with but I'm already having nightmares about not making it to the hospital in time."

Adriana chuckled. "You think you're going to deliver in a cab or something?"

"Yes! And it's not funny!" She laughed. "I need the doctors and the drugs. I don't have anything to prove to anybody. Remember Denise? She was too late to get the drugs and she got her tubes tied right after, after only one kid it was so bad."

Adriana shook her head. "I swear. She did not have to share that horror story with us."

"Tell me about it. She's got me wanting to camp outside the hospital now. Forget I still got two months to go."

"I heard that."

Cristian opened the door to let his brother and niece in. He addressed Antonio first. "Hey." Then he turned his attention to Jamie. "Hey, _Princesita!_" He grabbed the six-year-old and tickled her before lifting her in his arms and spinning her around over his head. She giggled madly. "_Como estas hoy?_"

"_Bien!_" She continued to laugh loudly as her uncle stopped spinning her and tucked her under his right arm. "Put me down!"

"What's the magic word?"

"Please?" Her laughter only increased as Cristian swung her up above his head again.

"That's close."

"_Por favor?!_"

Layla stood against the couch shaking her head with a smile on her face, her arms folded across her chest as she watched her husband roughhouse with their niece.

"Okay." Cristian started to swing Jamie to the floor but stopped abruptly once again and lifted her over his head again this time with one hand.

"_Tio_ Cris! Put me down! _Papi!_" Jamie's laughter continued to reverberate around the living room as she implored her father to help her. Her father who just stood there and smiled.

"_Quien es tu tio favorito?_"

"_Tu eres_!"

"Alright." Cristian finally placed her on her feet and smiled as she ran over to Layla for a hug.

"Hey, sweetie pie." Layla leaned over slightly and rubbed Jamie's back as the little girl wrapped her arms as much around her aunt's midsection as she could. "Why did you let your uncle do you like that? You gotta keep these boys in line or they'll win!"

Jamie giggled again and grabbed her aunt by the hand.

"Where're we going?"

"To your closet!"

"Again? Okay..." Layla followed Jamie into her bedroom. Every time she came over, Jamie always had to play dress up. Her Auntie Layla _always_ had the prettiest high heeled shoes and dresses in her closet and she always let her dress just like her, down to the hair and lipstick.

As the two ladies entered the bedroom, Antonio headed into the kitchen for a glass of water, his brother trailing closely behind him. "Thanks for watching Jamie for us today."

"No problem." Cristian leaned against the counter. "I gotta get my practice in, right?"

"That, my friend, you do." Closing the refrigerator, Antonio reached into the cupboard and pulled out a plastic cup.

"So what are you and Talia celebrating tonight? An anniversary or something?"

Finished pouring, Antonio returned the filtered pitcher to the refrigerator. "Not quite."

"Oh, just a night out?"

"Well...let's just say I'm going to need your services again."

Cristian squinted his eyes and frowned as he tried to follow his brother's train of thought. "What services?"

Antonio looked at his brother over his glass as he took a sip. Lowering the cup, he continued. "Best man services."

Cristian smiled. "Damn. Again?"

Antonio playfully caught his brother in the bicep. "I'm serious. This...This is it. She and Jamie...They're my world."

"Hey, man, I'm happy for you. Congratulations." He gave his brother a hug.

"Thanks. I got the whole thing planned tonight. Her favorite restaurant. Carriage ride downtown--she always wanted to go on one but we never got around to it. Five star hotel suite. She thinks we're just celebrating her promotion."

"Sounds perfect. Does _Mami_ know?"

"Yeah. She made me promise this was the last one." He chuckled then turned to place his cup in the sink and looked at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "I won't say what she said about her other son."

Cristian squinted his eyes again. "What?"

"She said at least I told her my plans unlike someone else who went and got married without telling anybody."

"Hey, you knew."

"I knew you were going to propose. I didn't know you were going to come back married. Was there even an engagement period? What'd you do? Slip the engagement ring on her finger, wait a second, then add the wedding band?"

"Ha. Funny." Cristian smirked at his brother. "We wanted to get married. When you know it's right, what's the point in waiting?"

Antonio shrugged. "None really. If you're sure."

"And we were. We are. We don't have a single regret." He sighed and looked towards the bedroom. "I swear, Antonio, she was the most beautiful vision in white I have ever seen. I couldn't even begin to try to paint it. This frilly, flowing white sundress. Bare feet...Hair flowing in the wind with this white orchid tucked behind her ear...Barely any makeup...I'm telling you, Antonio, I literally couldn't breathe for a minute she was so beautiful. It's burned in my mind. I'm never going to forget it." He smiled softly to himself. "It was perfect."

Antonio let his brother have his moment. He'd seen him happy and in love before. But this was...different. Something about it felt...real. More real than he could describe. More real than all the others. He was so happy for his brother but nervous at the same time. It was clear as day. Cristian would not get over this one. Never. He would die without her. Something inside of him would die and that would be it. His little brother would be gone. Forever. Shaking that thought from his mind, he went on. "You know, _Mami_ was hoping you two would do another ceremony."

"Yeah, we kind of talked about that. I'll have to see what Layla thinks. I just don't need the big wedding." _Been there, done that_. "There's just no way to recreate what we had down there, you know? It was just for us. Just us and God. But if she wants to do it, we'll try to put something together for everybody."

"That'll b--" Antonio looked in the direction of Layla and his daughter as Cristian hit him on the shoulder to get his attention.

He spoke conspiratorially. "Hey. Look." He smiled. "Isn't she waddling?"

Antonio released a small laugh as he nodded. "Yeah, she is."

"She swears she's not." Cristian looked at his wife and raised his voice so she could hear him. "I told you you were waddling now, Beautiful."

Layla immediately straightened her back as she walked behind a dolled-up Jamie. "I am not."

"Well, now you're not because you're paying attention!" He hit his brother again. "Wasn't she?"

"Uh, just a little." Antonio turned his back to them and went to open the refrigerator while trying to stifle his laughter. He wasn't trying to get into that one.

"What? Whatever, Antonio. Jamie, was I waddling?"

Jamie knew which way the wind was blowing. And who her favorite aunt was who always let her play in her clothes and makeup. She shook her head. "Mm-mmm."

"That's right, baby girl." Layla stood behind her niece with her hands on her small shoulders. "We girls have to stick together."

"Aw, Jamie. I thought I was your favorite!" Cristian put on his best crestfallen face. He reached behind himself and pulled out a jar of Skittles. "And I always keep these here for you."

Jamie laughed. "You are! You're my favorite _uncle_."

Cristian pretended to ponder what she said. "Well, okay then. Here you go." He held out the jar and Jamie stumbled over in Layla's high heels to get her favorite candy.

Antonio spoke up. "You give her all that sugar if you want to." He leaned down and gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "_Adios, mija. Te amo._"

"_Te amo, tambien, Papi_."

After Antonio exited, Cristian picked Jamie up. "Okay, Princess. You want to help me in the baby's room while we let Aunt Layla get some rest?"

"Okay. Can we paint?"

"Yep, you can help me with the mural--the picture on the wall. Let's go." Cristian paused in front of his wife and gave her a quick kiss. "Sit down and relax for awhile, okay? I'll look after Jamie." She looked tired. She usually did towards the end of the day. She was feeling less and less comfortable at night and was having trouble sleeping. And for once, it had little to do with _his_ sleeping. After Jamie was asleep, he had some plans to help her relax...


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"Mmmmm....." A low groan escaped her lips as Layla Vega lay on her bed reaping the intoxicating benefits of a Sweet Almond oil massage. The lights were off, only four scented candles illuminating the bedroom. Before, while she was enjoying a relaxing bath, Cristian had arranged several firm pillows on the bed as a makeshift massage area with enough space between them for the third member of their family. This he'd prepared after massaging his wife's feet, painting her toenails she could no longer easily reach, and carefully shaving her legs. Per her request. He couldn't care less--his damn legs were hairy, too--but he'd asked her what he could do for her to help her feel less miserable as her due date approached. Anything she wanted, he was going to make sure she got. He loved doing things for her, and she was slowly but surely teaching him how to relax and enjoy what she loved to do for him. Neither of them kept track, there was no list. No tit for tat. No checks and balances. It all ebbed and flowed, both of them instinctively, reflexively putting the other first. "Cristian?"

"Hmm?"

"I think something's wrong with us."

Cristian frowned, a curious expression on his face. "What?"

"We don't fight. It's not normal."

"It's not normal?" _Okay. Where is this coming from? Hormones?_

"No, it's not. Couples are supposed to argue. This is all your fault, too. You don't even have any bad habits that annoy me. I'm telling you, it's just not normal."

"Okay, so you want me to start clipping my toenails at the dinner table or something?"

Layla shrugged. "Okay. Do that…."

Cristian tried to keep his laugh to himself. How in the hell was it possible she was actually serious?

"…then we'll fight about it. I'll tell you to take that nasty shit somewhere else, okay?"

_We going to set a date and time, too???_ There was absolutely no rest with his wife. She always kept him on his toes. He adored that about her.

Layla lifted her head slightly as a thought struck her. "Oh my gosh. Cristian. We've never even had make-up sex. I don't know what make-up sex is like with my own husband." She shook her head and lowered it before relaxing under her husband's hands again. "Something's wrong with that picture."

He couldn't withhold his laugh this time. "Okay. If it'll make you happy, I'll pick a fight with you sometime this week so we can be a little more normal." He shook his head and smiled. _Leave it to Layla._ But then he stopped when he thought about the make-up sex. She was onto something there. How long had it been?

_When did he learn how to do this?_ she thought as she felt herself slowly slipping from consciousness into an easy sleep. His hands were yet another dangerous weapon in his arsenal. "Mmm. Cristian, who taught you how to do this?"

His voice dropped an octave. "A true artist is good with his hands."

"Mmm....Yes you are."

"I thought you already knew that." He leaned down and kissed her left shoulder blade assuming she'd get his meaning. He was sitting on his haunches alongside of her, enjoying the feel of her warm, smooth skin underneath his hands. It was the richest shade of mocha, like a chocolate canvas, just primed to be painted with whipped cream, caramel, and raspberry syrup. A decadent, sweet masterpiece.

"Baby, trust me." She moaned again. "I _knew_." Several rapid-fire flashbacks hit her reminding her just how much she knew. "But, um….I saw my toenails."

He stopped his massaging motions. "What?"

"You paint for a living but you can't keep the _nail_ polish on my _nails_???"

He grimaced. "You saw that, huh?"

Layla laughed softly. "Mmm-hmm."

He resumed his ministrations. "I didn't think it was that bad for my first try."

She smiled. She couldn't help but revel in the fact that she was the first--and only--woman he'd ever done that for. "No, not bad. Thank you for trying, though." She giggled before adding, "It's not sandal weather yet, anyway."

Cristian tried to act insulted. "I'll remember this, Layla." He heard her continue to laugh until she released a small groan of discomfort. He immediately stilled his hands. "Did I hurt you?"

"Mm-mm. She just kicked me a little hard."

Cristian applied more oil to her back and continued to work the fatigue from her muscles. "She heard you making fun of her _Papi_. You might want to watch that."

Layla burst out laughing this time. "What? Oh, you two think you're cute with this little thing you got going on. But just wait. When she gets here and sees _Mommy's_ the one with all the milk, the tables will turn, buster. The tables will turn."

Cristian couldn't help but laugh. Again. He did that so much with Layla. There hadn't been this much laughter in his life since his childhood and he could only imagine the joy that would exist in their home once their daughter arrived. Far too often, things had been unbearably bleak in his life. Even when he thought he was happy. Until Layla's light found him. Even now, with everything he was waging a mental battle against, there was her ubiquitous light guiding his turbulent path to healing and peace. What was he doing before he found her? _Waiting for her_. "Okay. No argument there. But until Mommy learns Spanish like the rest of us......"

"Oh, that's low."

He moved his hands further down her back, leaned down, and spoke softly into her left ear. "That's what?"

"Mmm....lllllooooow." The word slowly crawled off her tongue in a deep, guttural fashion as her husband's hands worked magic on her lower back. "Oh, that's perfect right there, Cris. Mmm....." _So what were we talking about?_ She continued to moan softly as sleep began to call for her even louder than before.

Still leaning close to her ear, he whispered. "Go to sleep, _carina_." He kissed her ear, straightened his back, and continued his massage until she fell asleep. Pulling her robe that was covering her lower body up over her back, he kissed her cheek, quietly climbed off the bed, and stretched his back along with his tired hands before leaving the bedroom to check on Jamie who was sleeping in the nursery next door. Seeing his niece was sound asleep, he headed back into the bedroom, closed the door, and proceeded to take a shower.

Layla groaned as she awakened. The room was still darkened, the candles still lit. She must have only slept for a few minutes. But she felt good. _Really_ good. Better than she'd felt in a while. She was so ready to have this baby. If it wasn't her back--causing her to _not_ waddle--it was her bladder being pressed on or the 2008 Olympics gymnastics competition being executed in her uterus. Everything her mother said was going to happen was happening. _My mother_. Why was she still not talking to her mother?

Changing the direction her thoughts were taking, she rose from the pillows and stretched, running her hands through her hair before settling them on her belly. Nighttime was usually her little Daddy's girl's most active period but tonight she was just as mellow as her mother. She smiled. "You giving your mommy a little break tonight, huh? She appreciates it so much, sweet pea." Finding her robe that had fallen to her side when she rose, Layla wrapped it around herself before climbing to the edge of the bed to get up to check on Jamie.

She returned to her bedroom and closed the door just as Cristian was exiting the bathroom.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" He was naked above the waist, his usual attire following a shower when it wasn't in the dead of winter.

She stood just inside the bedroom door and studied him for a moment. He paused in the middle of their room and curiously studied her back, eyes never leaving her face as she pulled her hair from her shoulders and met him in the middle of the room. She wrapped her arms around his chiseled frame. "No, you didn't wake me up." She pulled her hands from his bare back and reached up to pull his hair from its loose ponytail, letting her rubber band he sometimes borrowed fall to the floor. "I'm sorry, though."

"Yeah?" He asked teasingly. He saw it in her eyes. Layla was in a mood. A mood she hadn't been in in awhile. He understood completely but he was a man. A man crazy in love with his breathtakingly beautiful wife. And he wasn't about to complain. "No more leaving the toilet seat down, huh?" He smiled. She pinched his nipple. "Ow!" He laughed softly.

"No." She slid her right hand down his torso. "I'm sorry for," she grabbed his crotch and heard his sharp intake of air, "neglecting you." As soon as he opened his mouth to protest, she latched her lips onto his, biting the lower one before parting them and tasting the minty remains of his toothpaste. She couldn't help it. His tender treatment of her and her late-term pregnancy blues completely turned her on. She continued to kiss him deeply, refusing to allow his tongue to take the reins and brought her hands up to run her fingers through his soft, curly hair. Needing some air, she reluctantly released his mouth. He was panting already. _Loves it._ She quickly pulled him from his pajama bottoms and underwear. His breath became even shallower as she wrapped her right hand around him before biting her own bottom lip and zeroing in on his again, deciding to rob him of the remainder of his air while guiding him towards their bed.

Pushing him into a seated position on the edge, effectively freeing him from her lips and wandering right hand, she cinched her robe up at her sides and slowly knelt before him.

His mouth immediately went bone dry as his awakened member stood at attention. It had been awhile. "I'm weak, Layla," he confessed.

She pulled his pants and underwear down and off of him before looking into his face. "You want me to go easy on you?" She grabbed him with her right hand again, teasingly encircling the head of his engorged shaft and watched as he swallowed. "Hmm?"

He only smiled as his breath quickened and his head fell back. She was in control.

She went to work, giving that self-proclaimed "Superhead" chick a run for her money. Unintelligible Spanglish spilled from her husband's lips as his eyes rolled back in his head. "Shit, Layla." Okay, that she could understand. She finished him off quickly--he wasn't lying when he said he was already weak. Smiling, she used his thighs to push herself up from the floor before climbing on top of him. Completely satisfied with herself, she watched from her perch as his teeth chattered and he struggled to gain control of his breathing.

Many seconds later, he finally turned to look at her, a small grin spreading across his face to match hers as he continued trying to catch his breath. She got on all fours on top of him, letting her long hair tickle his face as she leaned close. "You okay?" Her voice was low and husky.

Still panting, he dug his fingers into her hair, pushing it back from her face while pulling her down into a voracious, toe-tingling kiss.

She was so very pregnant, everything so swollen and puffy, but words couldn't express how good it felt that her husband couldn't get enough of her. Pulling herself free--he wasn't about to turn the tables on her--she sat up and straddled him again pulling her hair over her right shoulder and staring down at her husband. "I love you."

He reached up and stroked her cheek while meeting her eyes. "I love you, too." He trailed his index finger down her jawbone to her neck and then her collarbone. He traced her exposed flesh just above the V of her robe before pushing it apart until her right breast was exposed. He looked into her eyes again before returning his gaze to her swollen breast, circling the nipple before raising himself into a half-seated position and taking it into his mouth.

She let him lave his tongue across her taut nipple over and over again before pushing him back onto his back. Without taking her eyes from his, she took her hand, found his dick hardened again, and slowly replaced her warm hand with her hot canal. She went slowly at first, enjoying teasing him and testing his patience before picking up her pace. It wasn't long before both were short of breath, trying to make as little noise as possible as they did that familiar dirty dance with each other that somehow got better every time they did it.

"Aunt Layla?"

"Oh my--." _Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! Where did she come from???_ "Jamie," she immediately jumped off of her husband, pulling her robe closed and awkwardly settling on her heels in front of him at the edge of the bed as he sat up, frantically trying to find his pajama bottoms, all thoughts of that orgasm that was so close fleeing from their minds faster than Cristian's briefs had hit the floor. But damn his underwear. He'd just go commando for now. Where the hell were those pants? "Jamie, hey," she glanced behind herself to see if he'd found his pants. He had, and while he was slipping them on away from his niece's view, Layla continued to engage Jamie while putting her best acting chops to good use: feigning like she had not just gotten caught by a six-year-old getting insanely busy with her man. "Hey, sweetie, what's the matter? Did you have a bad dream?" _Please tell me she didn't see anything. Please tell me she didn't see anything..._

Rising off of the bed as casually as he could, Cristian scratched the back of his neck, trying his damnedest to stay cool. He walked over to the light switch by the door, turned the lights on, and then squatted beside his niece. "Hey, what happened?" _And why didn't you knock, Princess???_

Jamie nodded in Layla's direction, then looked at her uncle. "He was in the closet and tried to get me."

Cristian rubbed her back. "Who was?"

"The _monster_," she said as though her uncle should've known already. Her uncle who, unbeknownst to her, was holding his breath hoping she wouldn't ask what he and _Tia_ Layla were doing when she walked in.

"Oh, come here, sweetie." _Please tell me she didn't see anything. Please tell me she didn't see anything..._ Layla motioned for her niece to climb onto the bed and into her arms. "It's okay. Uncle Cris'll go check the closet in your room, okay, and make sure he's not in there. It was just a dream, baby girl. We're not going to let anyone get you." She looked at Cristian as he began to leave the room to check for the "monster," giving him the most discreet _Oh shit!_ look she could muster over her niece's head as she held her to her side.

"I'll be right back, Jamie. I'm going to go check the closet, okay?" Cristian left the room.

"I don't want to go back in there," Jamie buried her head even further into Layla's side.

"You don't? Well, you want to sleep in here with me?" _The mood is COMPLETELY gone._ Jamie nodded. "Okay, you can stay with me tonight."

"_Tia_ Layla?"

"Hmm?"

"What were you doing?"

_Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!_

Cristian heard the question as he re-entered the room and froze. _Damn!_

Layla looked up at him to answer. He just looked back at her while quickly shaking his head. _Lot of help you are._ "Um, we were just....playing." She looked at her husband again and they both cringed at her answer. "...A game." _Cowgirls and stallions?_ "That's all. Hey, look, come on." She peeled her niece from her side and climbed off the bed. "Come on, let's get under the covers." She pulled the sheets and covers up from where Cristian had folded them down before her massage. Jamie happily hopped underneath--on her uncle's side of the bed--as her aunt pulled the covers up to her chin. "There we go. Uncle Cris can go sleep where you were, make sure the monster's gone for good, okay?"

Cristian gave her an _Oh, I can?_ look as he watched her walk over to the dresser to get some pajamas and underwear to put on.

"I'll be right back, Jamie." Layla grabbed Cristian's hand and walked into the bathroom. Content, Jamie settled herself in their bed and closed her eyes. That monster wouldn't get her in here.

"Shit, Layla. What do you think she saw?" Cristian implored his wife behind the closed bathroom door as she slipped out of her robe and changed into her pajamas.

"I don't know. I can't believe this. What if we scarred her for life, Cristian??? Oh my gosh, Antonio's going to kill us!"

_Antonio. Damn!_ "Tell me about it." He sighed. "Maybe....maybe she really didn't see anything. It was dark, right?"

She pulled her gown over her head. "I could see _you_! Candles remember?"

"Damn." He sighed again. He looked towards the closed door. "She seemed okay, right? I mean, you told her we were just playing...and she let it go, right?"

"Yeah." Layla pulled her hair out of her gown and rested her hands on her lower back. She sighed. "Let's just try to go to bed. We'll see how she acts in the morning and go from there."

"Okay." He sighed one more time. He couldn't remember the last time he was this embarrassed. He felt like a teenager who had gotten caught by his parents getting busy with his girlfriend in the basement. "Well," he nodded his head towards the door. "I better go to my room, now." He stuck out his hand. "It was fun, Mrs. Vega."

She playfully slapped his hand away and smirked at him. "Go to bed, _Mr._ Vega. And try to keep it in your pants next time."

He smiled. "What? Who was taking it out of whose pants?"

"Shhh! Shut up!" She pushed him towards the door and out of the bathroom. He promptly said goodnight to all three of his ladies, blew out the candles, turned off the lights, and went to sleep in the nursery next door. To keep the monsters away.

*****

"What? Cristian!" Cristian hit his brother in the shoulder to get him to lower his voice and looked back into the house to see if Jamie was within earshot. Antonio followed his line of sight briefly and lowered his voice. "She walked in on you having sex?!"

"Yeah." Cristian scratched the back of his neck. This was some embarrassing shit. "But I don't think she saw much." _I hope she didn't see much._

Antonio breathed a small sigh of relief. "Well, okay, so you were under the covers, right? She doesn't know what you were doing."

Cristian stopped scratching his neck and held his hand still. He squinted his eyes as he looked at his brother. "Uh..."

"What?"

"We weren't exactly under the covers." _So embarrassing_.

Antonio threw up his hands, released a loud exasperated sigh, and started to walk away before his brother grabbed his forearm to bring him back around to face him.

Cristian looked towards the house again quickly. "Look, I don't know how much she saw. It was dark. Just a few candles, that's it."

"Damn, Cris. Why didn't you lock the door?!" He was whisper-yelling again.

Cristian found himself whisper-yelling back. "We never lock the door! It's just us, remember!?" Antonio nodded his head sarcastically. "And....I mean..." He shrugged and turned slightly red around his high cheekbones. "It just happened, you know?"

"Yeah, it just happened. You set your room up with candles ahead of time and 'it just happened.'" It was Antonio's turn to scratch the back of his neck as he sighed. "So what did she say? Is my little six-year-old daughter traumatized now because her uncle couldn't keep his hands off her aunt for _one_ night?"

Cristian sighed. Not only was this embarrassing as hell, he was starting to feel even worse. He'd never walked in on his parents. _Por la Gracia de Dios_. What did that sort of thing do to a kid? Jamie didn't seem to have been bothered by what she saw. _Maybe saw._ But for all he knew she sensed his and Layla's discomfort the night before and decided not to ask any more questions. Kids were some of the most perceptive people on the planet and his niece was no exception. "She seemed okay. We told her we were just.... playing...." _Damn. Can it get any more embarrassing?_ "...and she said she had a bad dream and she and Layla kicked me out of the bed and went to sleep. Everything was fine after that."

_Playing?_ Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, Antonio put his hands on his hips, trying to reassess the situation. It was the cop in him. "Okay, look, I'm sorry. I know this is embarrassing as hell. I'm just not ready for this at all. She's still a baby. I was hoping to avoid anything having to do with this until she was 35." He sighed and shrugged. "But it's not like I haven't had any close calls myself."

"Uh-huh." He looked at his brother knowingly. _Coming down on me all hard and shit_. "Anyway, we just wanted you and Talia to know in case she says something later. You know....about the game _Tio_ Cris and _Tia_ Layla were playing." He smiled for the first time since their conversation started, soon finding himself trying desperately not to burst out laughing. It really did sound pitiful.

Antonio sighed and smiled before patting his little brother on the back. "Well, bro, I hope we've learned a lesson for future reference." He started back into the house, his hand still on his brother's back as they walked, both silently praying Jamie didn't see anything, was not seeing anything, and would _never_ see anything until she was 45 years old.

"Hell, yeah. You want to run with me to Home Depot really quick? I need to get some deadbolts."

*****

"Hey. You order for me yet?"

Layla set her pink lemonade down and looked at her brother as he sat across from her at her mother-in-law's diner. "No. Good thing I didn't. You're late. Vincent have trouble tying his shoe laces all by himself today?" Layla wasn't bitter. She really wasn't. And she knew Shaun and Vincent went all the way back, but that didn't stop her from wishing Shaun would stop being that man's lackey and go about pursuing his dream of owning his own security firm. After working for Vincent, he deserved to be his own boss ten times over. But it was like talking to a brick wall. A brick wall that barked back about her no longer pursuing her own dream of winning an Emmy, Oscar, Grammy, and Tony--in that order. She wished she'd never given him that little tidbit about herself. Her life had gone in a different direction. Not at all how she imagined it. She had had no definitive plans, no strict time line--that was her sister's thing--but she knew she wanted to make it as an actress, conquer the music business by bringing back the good ol' days of R&B that she grew up with, and eventually bring the two together by ending up on Broadway. All before the age of 28. Then she and her husband--a mix of Tyson Beckford, Shemar Moore, and Blair Underwood who had never dated her sister--would have 2.4 kids, a cat and a dog, all housed behind a white picket fence.

That was how she loosely imagined her life would go. But her Hollywood dreams got cut short when she decided she needed to split from a precarious situation, and ended up in tiny Llanview with her sister. She wasn't a professional actress or singer. She was a fashion editor at an exclusive magazine. But fashion had always been her second love so she absolutely couldn't complain on the professional front.

She didn't have her mix of non-sister-dating TBS--Tyson, Blair, and Shemar. She had the most beautiful Puerto Rican man on earth who made her happier than her dream man ever did in her dreams. Even if he _had_ dated her sister. When she looked at him, when she kissed him, when she made love to him, when she held him after one of his recurring nightmares, she no longer saw it. The one huge issue that had loomed over their relationship from the moment they first slept together until she confessed her feelings to her sister and finally began to make peace with what she had instigated that first night in September. It was still there, that irrefutable fact that she was in love with a man whom her sister had once loved, but it had become so trivial she no longer automatically thought about Cristian and Evangeline in terms of their former relationship with each other. It was true what they said. About things becoming easier to handle with time.

She didn't have the 2.4 kids but she was working on it, and when she and Cristian were ready for a house, she would get her cat and her dog and her white picket fence.

But there was still that pain. Days, months, and almost a year had gone by. She still didn't have her sister to talk to anymore. That was so far from being in her plans it was still difficult to even register. Time made it easier to deal with the loss but that emptiness was still there. She may have gained a brother and father--another deviation from the plan--but no one could take the place of her big sister.

"The guy who can't tie his shoes wanted me to tell you he said hello."

Layla was brought back to the present. She smiled and shrugged. Vincent was Shaun's brother and she was his sister. She really needed to stop giving him a hard time since he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. "Okay, I quit. How's he doing anyway?"

It was Shaun's turn to shrug. "Same." He looked up as a waitress approached ready to take his order. After placing it, he returned his attention to his companion. "So, is this Daddy shower thing still on? Cristian's gonna hate this, Layla, I'm telling you."

"No, he's not. It's just a party. Gosh, I shouldn't have even called it that. I say 'Daddy shower' and you, Antonio, Terrence, and everybody get all squeamish like I'm gonna make you watch birthing videos or something. I just want you guys to show him a good time while I'm having my shower. One last hurrah before he has to start changing diapers, that's all."

"Okay. Just don't call it a 'shower.' It's one last throwdown until life as he knows it is _over_."

Layla smirked at her brother. "Whatever. Why do you have to be like that? You're going to have kids one day."

He shrugged again and took a sip of his drink as the waitress set it down in front of him. "Maybe. Anyway, we're probably going to have some strippers up in there. You okay with that?" Shaun looked at his sister and smiled mischievously.

Layla knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. One he wasn't going to get. "I don't care. He never had a bachelor's party so go for it. I trust him. Those little bitches just better not get too comfortable."

Shaun laughed out loud. "Right. So who you sending over to spy?"

Layla threw a napkin at him. "Don't make me call up your girlfriend and tell her you plan on having strippers show up at the party without telling her."

Shaun immediately regained his composure. "Yeah, so, uh...."

"Yeah, er, uh...." She mocked him and smiled.

He turned serious. "Seriously, though. I wanted to tell you. My--_our_--granddad is coming to visit. Fred, remember?"

"Yeah, of course. When is he coming? Gosh, I need to clean up my house so he can come over and have dinner or something. Do you know what he likes to eat? I don't want to make something he hates."

"He eats anything. You have a while. He's not coming until the summer. He can't wait to meet his great-granddaughter."

Layla smiled. That was right. She would be here by summer. "I've only talked to him once since we found out. We just really need to get together and talk in person, you know? It's hard over the phone."

Shaun nodded. "Yeah. You should hear him, though. He can't wait to come back and see you."

"I can't wait either. I didn't get to know my grandfathers. One died before I was born and the other one died when I was too young to remember him." She sighed as her mood changed. "I just wish I could've met Cleveland, Shaun."

They both sat back as their food was served. Carlotta wasn't in today much to Layla's dismay. Monster-in-law she was so not. She loved how she always called her "_mija_" and made sure she always had her favorite food prepared whenever she called to say she was coming for lunch. Cristian always teased that Layla was getting the special treatment he used to get as the baby of the family. The daughter she never had. Layla noticed Shaun picking at his food, suddenly becoming very quiet as he eventually took a bite. "What?"

He looked up at her. "What?"

"You got quiet all of a sudden."

Shaun shrugged. "Nothing. I'm just saying....You really didn't miss anything, Layla." She dropped her gaze from his and began to pick at her own food. She was losing her appetite. He never had anything positive to say about his father while she still clung to the notion that the man would have had _something_ to offer her, even if it was just knowing who the hell he was for herself for her own peace of mind. "I know you wanted to meet him but trust me, you were better off."

It stung. She didn't really know why but it always stung. Could he really have been that bad? And even if he was, did that negate the hollowness she felt never having met her own damn father? Not knowing anything about him except all the negative? He wasn't a sociopath or a cold, heartless serial killer. He had to have had some good qualities. Maybe have even changed for the better later in life. And what about her? Did she inherit any of the good? Did her passion for life come from him? What about the bad? Did her temper come from him? Neither of those things came from her mother. Her cool, cautious, reserved mother. _He was a bad, absent father_ did nothing to fill that void even though she felt that it should.

While she was still picking at her food, Shaun decided to continue. "His issues were more important than being a father and a husband. He wasn't around, my mom had to work all the time, I ended up hanging on the corner, got hooked up with Vincent." He shrugged again. "The rest is history."

Layla finally looked up from her plate and at her brother, sensing the change in his tone. Was that regret? "You don't owe Vincent anything, Shaun."

"I do. You don't know what we went through. You didn't have to go through any of that shit. I'm glad." He looked her straight in her eyes for his next words. "Your parents did the right thing, Layla. Stop being so damn stubborn and talk to your mother. You got a baby coming. Don't bring her into any of this. Start fresh."

Layla rolled her eyes heavenward. "Okay, _Cristian_." It seemed the closer she got to her due date, the more Cristian was "gently" nudging her to talk to her mother. She _hated_ being told what to do. Was that her problem? Why she still wasn't speaking to her mom? The automatic defiance she always felt whenever she was being pushed to do something she didn't want to do? "I don't get what your childhood was like? Fine. You don't get mine either. I am 27 years old, Shaun, _twenty-seven years old_, and I'm just now figuring out why my mother treated me like the ugly step-daughter when it drove me crazy trying to figure out why my entire life while my perfect sister could do no wrong." She sighed. She didn't mean for that last part to come out that way. It wasn't Evangeline's fault. She had had to deal with her own issues with their father who worried he couldn't love another man's child like his own so he overcompensated with her. Layla shook her head. "I couldn't do anything right. Never thought things through, my dreams were "silly," I rushed into things too fast. I swear it was one thing after another..."

"Layla. You ever think she treated you like that because that's the way _you are_?" Her _what the fuck_ expression made him continue. "Look, I know we're still really getting to know each other but even _I_ see it. You do jump right into things. And she's your mom. You gonna tell me when your daughter just does whatever whenever you're not going to worry about her? If my kid wanted to be an actress out in crazy-ass Hollywood I'd be against that shit, too. It's hard for anybody to make it out there. A black woman on top of it? Come on, Layla. She worried about you more than your sister because you made her. Hell, you went off and married Cristian like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "He's a cool dude but doing shit like that is just asking for trouble." He stopped and looked at his sister. His suddenly at a loss for words sister. "You need to talk to your mom, Layla. She's the only one you have. I don't know a damn thing about babies so I won't be any kind of help. You need your mother." He shrugged. "So she didn't tell you about your sperm donor the minute you were born. She gave you a real family anyway. Forgive her and let it go."

She remained silent and continued to play with her food. She hated this, too. Being told about herself. Most people hated that, but she _really_ hated it. _Dammit!_ He was right. Cristian was right. Her mother's attitude about her may have fucked with her head since she was a teenager but the one thing she had absolutely never wondered about was whether her mother loved her or not. Not once. And maybe she _was_ a little...._too_ free-spirited. "Um, doesn't Vincent need help remembering when to breathe or something? Shouldn't you go take care of that?"

He smiled. He knew he had gotten through to her since she was clearly trying to get rid of him. His sister was a hardheaded little something. "You think I'm about to leave before I eat this?" He pointed to his plate with his fork.

Layla rolled her eyes. That was her big brother. She shook her head and forked some food into her mouth. Her appetite had found its way back. And she knew she had something she had to do.

*****

There was a knock on the door before the tall, lean man entered the room.

His boss turned to face him, the anticipation written all over his face. "So? You get it? Llanview, Pennsylvania, right?"

The taller man nodded and took several steps closer to his boss's desk, placing a photograph in front of him. When his boss saw the picture, the man noticed the flicker of a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"Who the hell is this?"

This was crazy. His boss and friend had truly flipped. The whole thing was no good. But he had a job to do and he had done it. "She's married. That's her husband." He saw him meticulously temper his rage.

"What's his name?" There was no emotion in his voice.

The employee sighed before continuing, reading from his PDA. "Vega. First name Cristian. Puerto Rican cat. Professional artist. Before that, did some boxing. Cruiserweight. Word is he was good but got fucked over by his own manager. Brother named Vincent Jones. Before that did time in Statesville for murder." He took a breath. "New evidence surfaced, got out on time served."

His boss was working overtime on the stress ball in his left hand.

"They got married January this year. She's working at some fashion magazine called _Craze_ as an editor." He hesitated before adding the next part. "Baby on the way. Soon."

His boss nodded slowly, still working the hell out of his stress ball. "That it?"

"I only got the basics so far."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Damon...."

"Thanks." There it was. Finality. The tall man got the hint and turned to leave. This wasn't going to turn out well.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"Hey." Layla breezed into Cristian's studio.

Startled back to the present, Cristian shook his head and turned from the canvas he was facing but not seeing, surprised to see her. "Hey." He smiled, wiped his hands on a cloth, and stepped towards her. "What are you doing here? Everything okay?" He took both of his wife's hands and led her to the couch in the corner. This studio in Lindsay's building was definitely an upgrade from his loft. He had a small break area, complete with kitchenette, small table and chairs, and a plush couch with two matching sofa chairs. Although he was used to--and missed--his loft studio, he had to admit Lindsay gave him the hookup with this place.

"I'm fine. Just came to eat lunch with my favorite artist." Cristian helped her ease onto the couch and sat beside her.

"And what does _my_ favorite artist want for lunch?"

Layla shrugged. "Food." She smiled. He was her absolute favorite person to tease. And she was usually relentless.

"Oh, food? Okay, that's good. Let's go." He started to rise from the couch and smiled as Layla yanked him back down.

"I saw Lindsay in the hall. She said you got some crazy good news. So give it up."

She watched as he shrugged and a fleeting look of regret crossed his features as he got up from the couch and walked back over to his artwork.  
"Oh. Yeah, it's not that big a deal."

"Not according to Lindsay. She was this close to spilling. So tell me." She waited anxiously, wondering why he wasn't exuding the same enthusiasm as Lindsay. He was always low-key but it seemed he was trying to downplay it. Whatever it was. Pressing her fists into the couch at her sides so she could push herself up from the couch, she made it back onto her feet and walked over to her husband's side, one hand on her stomach, the other on her lower back. She looked into his face waiting for a response.

"Um, it's just--well, remember those invites you got me for Christmas?"

"Yeah. For that ultra ultra _ultra_ VIP art show? It's this year, right?"

He nodded while taking the canvas off the easel and heading over to the far wall to place it amongst his other paintings. Brushing his hands off, he headed back to stand in front of his wife, arms crossed. He shrugged again. "They're going to use my 'Atonement' piece."

Layla quickly wracked her brain trying to place the name to the work. She remembered him showing her that one. "Oh my gosh! Baby, that's fantastic!" She threw her arms around him and squeezed him as hard as she could in her excitement. "Oh my gosh, I'm so proud of you!" Releasing him she continued, a huge grin still on her face. "It's impossible to even _go_ to that show but you're going to be _in_ it???" She broke out into a little dance. "My baby is On. His. Way. Up!"

Cristian shook his head and smiled slightly, her exuberance beginning to rub off on him.

She hit him in the arm, her smile fading as she wondered what his problem was. "What's the matter? This is the best news ever but you're acting like your dog died."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. I know it is. I can't believe how blessed I am." He hesitated. He knew she was going to try to get him to go. "But it's next month, Layla. I can't go."

"Why not? You have to go. It's your dream. And now that you're _in_ the show, there's no way you're not going."

"Layla, it's all the way in Rome. On the twelfth. I'm not going halfway around the world and leaving you here nine months pregnant."

She sighed. Of course that was it. "Okay, it's on the twelfth. That's two weeks before I'm due. You can still go."

He shook his head. "What if she comes early? What if something happens and I'm not here? I'll just have to go next time."

"Cristian, you are going to this show. What happens if she comes when she's due, or she's late, and you missed it for nothing? I don't want you to regret it."

"And I don't want to regret going and missing the birth of my daughter. Nothing is more important than that."

"Okay, newsflash for you. Back in the '50s, men were never there for the births. They came in and saw the baby after the fun was over."

"It's 2008, Layla." He started to walk away when he felt her grab his arm and bring him back around to face her.

Layla sighed. "You know I want you to be there. And you _will_ be there. Because you'll only be gone a few days and I promise I'll hold her in until you get back." She smiled when she got one out of him.

He took both of her hands in his. "I may not have gone to medical school, Beautiful, but I don't think you can control that."

"You wanna bet? I'm very stubborn when I want to be." She continued to smile.

He sighed. "I appreciate you letting me know it's okay if I go, Layla, but I'm not going."

_Did he not just hear me say I'm stubborn?_ Pulling out of his grasp, Layla walked back over to the couch to grab her purse. "Come on," she put her purse strap over her shoulder. "Let's go eat. I'm starving." Walking past him, she paused at the door and turned around, waiting on him to follow her.

He squinted his eyes and studied her curiously. _That was too easy_.

"Well?"

_Really, that was too easy. What is she up to?_ "So where are we going to eat?" He met her at the door.

"Your mom's diner."

_Noooooo...._ "We went there last time."

"I know. Looks like we have to make another trip." She started down the hall.

_She's not...._ "Why?"

She rubbed her belly as she walked. "I'm craving some of her _paella valenciana_." She did pretty good that time. She was working on her Spanish pronunciations.

_...bringing my mother into this._

"Oh gosh. You know," She stopped and turned to look at him as they reached the doors leading to the parking lot. "We have to share the good news while we're there." She plastered an innocent smile on her face.

Cristian opened the door for her and followed her out. "Layla, why do you hate me so much?"

*****

"Damon, you sure about this? Look, maybe you should--"

"Yes!" He snapped. "You know, you--you..." He squinted his eyes closed and made a twirling motion with his index finger in the air next to his ear. "You keep," he then pounded his fist onto the coffee table. "_asking_ me that." His eyes opened wide and the left one twitched uncontrollably for a few seconds.

His employee and friend held up both hands in surrender. This was nuts. _He_ was nuts. Why was he going along with this crazy shit?

Damon's voice became calm just as quickly as it had become agitated. "I have to get her back. And I don't give a fuck how I gotta do it."

Elijah shook his head and sighed. "Alright. We fly out of LAX tomorrow."

Damon relaxed back into the couch and smiled, eyes visualizing something only he could see. "Perfect."

*****

"Girrrrrrl, it's almost time. How are the nerves?" Layla asked the bride-to-be as she sat next to her on the couch at _La Boulaie_ as the party was winding down. Dorian had held a "small" get-together of about 250 guests, more than half of whom Adriana didn't know, for her daughter and future son-in-law to celebrate the coming nuptials.

Adriana picked at some lint on her dress. "They're fine."

"Scared, huh?"

"To death."

Layla laughed. "You'll be fine, babe. It's just the big ceremony giving you the jitters. You're probably just worried about tripping on your dress, falling on your face, drawing a blank when you have to say your vows, letting out a big, smelly, wet one--"

"Uh, thanks, Lay. That's exactly what I was thinking about. Thanks sooo much for that."

Layla laughed again. "I'm just messing with you. I'll do the same thing to Talia since she's next, don't worry." She stopped laughing and smiled. "As long as the jitters are about the wedding and not the groom, it's cool."

Adriana patted her friend's thigh. "Yeah, you're right. Better to be worried about making a fool out of yourself in front of three hundred people rather than spending the rest of your life with someone."

"It ain't too late, girl. We can call up a judge, get it done like that." She snapped her fingers.

"Oh, the Layla and Cristian method?" She smiled. "All this _non-refundable_ money we've already spent? And to hear my mother's mouth? Please." She shook her head. "Get ready to work the hell out of your dress, girl." She looked at her friend's stomach and raised her eyebrows. "Uh, it does still fit, right?"

Layla lightly hit her friend in the arm with the back of her hand while they both laughed. "I am not that big! I may look like I'm carrying quads but I'm not _that_ big."

"Girl, just don't go into labor during my wedding, that's all I'm asking." Adriana continued to laugh. She was so glad she had Layla as her matron of honor. She knew she would keep her sane and as calm as possible during the next week before she became a married woman.

"I'll try not to," she said sarcastically. The wedding was set for the 28th of April, a full month before her May 25th due date. Layla frowned and placed both hands on her belly. "Seriously, though, I thought you weren't supposed to get so big with your first. I mean, damn. Eliana must be 10 pounds already."

Just then, a loud crashing sound, like glass breaking, startled both of them and they reflexively turned their heads in the direction they sensed it had come from. "What was that?"

Layla shrugged. "I don't know." Beyond tired from the evening's activities, Layla decided to stay put while Adriana rose to investigate the source of the crash, leaving Layla with a few lingering guests also mildly curious about the noise. While she waited, she decided to use her phone to tap into _La Boulaie's_ wi-fi to check out the prices of flights to Atlanta for the following week before the wedding. She needed to apologize to her mother in person. And visit her sister. It would likely be her last chance to fly before she entered her ninth month when it wasn't recommended. Otherwise, she'd have to take the 12-hour drive down there in the Honda--she hadn't set foot in Cristian's low-riding coupe in a couple months--and her body was already protesting just the thought of that long ride.

Soon, she realized Adriana had been gone for a minute--ten at least--and frowned, wondering what was going on. And where was Cristian? She hadn't seen him in a long time either. Deciding to make the effort to get off the couch, she forced herself up just as Carlotta walked into the room.

The frown remained on Layla's face as she watched her mother-in-law approach her, a pained, anguished expression on her normally cheerful face. She slowly took Carlotta's hand as it was extended to her. "Come with me, _mija_."

"What is it?" Her heart was pounding. Carlotta was making her nervous. "Carlotta?" She followed her mother-in-law, unease slowing her steps.

Carlotta stopped in the hall before reaching whatever her destination was. "It's Cristian. I--we can't get through to him. Something's wrong."

_Oh my God._ Whatever calm she had went out the window. Fast. And there was no point in trying to get it back because she knew it wasn't going to stay. Carlotta's demeanor, her voice, her eyes, they all showed a mother slipping into hysteria. _Oh my God._

Immediately, Layla's mind rewound that incident a few months ago when she had found him unresponsive on the back porch at night in the middle of winter clad only in his pajamas. It had terrified her. The feeling was back. And worse. Outside of the flashbacks he told her he was occasionally experiencing during the day, she was beginning to feel he was slowly getting better. He was sleeping a little more. His moods were less erratic. He was laughing more, getting more excited about their baby as time went by. Was he faking it? What could it be now? What was that glass shattering? Dammit, he was doing better. He was getting therapy. He was steadfast about it. He didn't need a setback now. He didn't. "Where is he? Where is he?!"

"Layla--"

"Is he--" Layla panicked as she started down the hall, looking down the branching corridors, moving faster than she'd moved in awhile, leaving her mother-in-law hurrying behind her. As she rounded the corner, she saw Adriana, Talia, Dorian, Luis, a couple housekeepers, and a few more stragglers huddled around the kitchen entrance. They all turned to look at her, concern and apprehension written on their faces as she rushed past them into the kitchen.

She paused at the entrance as she saw him sitting upright on the floor, back against the refrigerator. Antonio was on the floor next to him, arm around his shoulders, speaking soothingly. Spanish? English? She didn't even know. Didn't care. Antonio looked up as he saw her, his mother right behind her. She took it all in. The broken glass and dishes on the floor, the blood-stained dishcloth wrapped around her husband's left hand, his face. _His face._ It was frozen. Paralyzed with fear. _Cristian._

She slowly walked towards them, broken glass crunching beneath her feet as she approached. _Don't cry, Layla. Don't you dare cry. Be strong._

Antonio rose from the floor and grasped her elbow when she made it to his side. "Be careful." He spoke softly as he helped her lower herself to the floor, assuming his former position. He stepped back, giving them space, and wrapped his arm around his mother as she stood several feet away, hand to her lips, tears threatening to run rivulets down her cheeks. They needed to call his doctor. It was after hours but Antonio knew his name--he and his wife had had to file a police report following Cristian's and Mrs. Green's assaults--and could call the office number and wait for the emergency number that had to be on the voice mail greeting.

_Don't cry. Do not cry._ She slid around and settled on her heels so that she could look into his face, his eyes. Her lips were trembling as she tried desperately not to cry. Bringing her hands up to his face, she pushed his hair back and looked into his eyes. Unlike last time, he was warm to the touch and his body was not rigidly held in place. Instead, he felt limp, listless. Completely devoid of energy and light. Like an empty shell. "Cristian?" She was surprised to hear her voice sound so strong when inside she felt as though she were taking her last breath. _Oh, God, please help me. Help me help him._

He stared right through her. In the distance. Off somewhere. She continued to stroke his face as she felt her eyes burning, herself crumbling. _Don't cry, Layla! Dammit, don't cry!_ "Cristian..." It was weaker this time. Because she simply couldn't do it anymore: look into his dark, vacant eyes. It was how people on television looked when they died with their eyes open. _Please help me help him!_ She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into her arms. He came easily. Like a rag doll. "Cris..." _Cris..._ Was she even speaking out loud anymore?

Antonio heard and felt a sob from his mother as he gently turned her to leave Layla and Cristian alone in the kitchen. Dorian and Adriana quickly surrounded her as Antonio peeled off to make some phone calls. He felt numb. His brother was in so much pain and turmoil and there wasn't anything he could do about it. It was enough to make him want to break down and cry. He jumped as he felt Talia come up behind him and rub his back. He turned to look at her, eyes thanking her for the support.

"_Tia_ Carlotta, what happened?" Adriana asked softly as her aunt gathered herself back together.

She shook her head quickly. "I don't know. Dorian and I heard the noise and went to the kitchen and..." She continued to shake her head, slowly this time. "He was where he is now. And he wouldn't, he wouldn't answer me." Carlotta blotted her eyes with her tissue again.

Adriana turned to the maids. "Mrs. Bass, Mrs. English. Did you see anything?"

Both women shook their heads and Mrs. Bass spoke softly, indicating that they should move a few feet away from the kitchen so they could speak freely. "We weren't in the kitchen when it happened but I saw him come in as I was leaving. He didn't say anything and he....looked upset. I can't really describe it but I didn't really think anything of it."

Dorian spoke up, her friend's fragile condition pulling at her heartstrings. "Carlotta, dear, let's--let's go sit down. We can get some tea from the other wing." She turned to the two housekeepers and asked them for the tea. They both went off as Dorian tried to get her friend to move from where her feet were firmly planted.

"No, no, Dorian. I can't leave him. If Layla can't get through to him, I need--I need to be here so I can try again. I need to be here."

"Carlotta, Adriana will stay here. You need to sit, just for a little while, alright? Cristian knows you're here. He knows you're here with him. Come on. Come on now. Rest just for a little." Dorian finally got Carlotta to move and Adriana watched as her mother and aunt slowly went down the hall, Carlotta looking back at her, silently begging her to come get her the minute anything changed. Lowering her head as the last few guests finally went on their way, Adriana felt Luis' hands wrap around her shoulders and they both silently prayed.

*****

Layla didn't know how long it had been. How long she had held him in that same spot. He didn't move. In spite of her willpower, she had cried and her tears had long dried up. Like she felt her soul had. Until the tiny life inside of her abdomen jolted her back. Hard. She took one arm from around her husband and placed her hand on her belly. The baby was insistent. Layla winced and looked down at her stomach, distractedly wondering why her daughter was suddenly so very busy in her womb. One arm still around him, Layla looked up into her husband's face and her breath caught in her throat. _Oh my God. Cristian?_ She couldn't believe it. "Cristian?" He was looking directly at her. Directly into her eyes. She immediately brought both of her hands to his face again. "Cris?"

Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat. It was there. Recognition. "Cris. Cris, baby, it's me." She stroked his face repeatedly, feeling her recently dormant tear ducts instantly reawaken. "It's me." Her breath quickened as she lost control of her emotions again and began to hyperventilate. Her vision became so blurry she could no longer see his face, see his expressive eyes changing back to an amber shade. She lost it even further when, this time, he slowly wrapped his arms around her.

Adriana put both hands up to her mouth, tears falling down her cheeks. She and Luis had stayed to keep vigil over her cousin and best friend. They silently thanked God when they saw him wrap his arms around his wife. They watched as Cristian and Layla stayed huddled together on the floor, no words spoken between them. Adriana sighed heavily. He was okay. Cristian was going to be okay. _At least for now._ Antonio and Carlotta. She had to tell them. Starting down the hall, she halted as she saw them approach with another man she didn't recognize. "I was just about to come get you. I think Layla got through to him. I think he's going to be okay."

"Are you sure?" Antonio asked.

"They're still in there. But he's back. He recognized her."

Carlotta raised her eyes heavenward and said her own prayer of immense gratitude. But there was no collective sigh of relief from the group. Not after what they had just witnessed. The anxiety was still palpable.

Antonio turned to Barry Green. "Do you think he's going to be okay? You know he's been having these flashbacks but I've never seen him like this. We tried to get through to him for fifteen minutes and..." Antonio shook his head as his voice trailed off.

"Let me talk to him for a little bit. He really has been making good progress. Everyone who's experienced a traumatic event is different. Recovery's not going to be easy." Walking into the kitchen, the doctor took in its disheveled state and slowly made his way over to his patient and his wife, glass breaking further beneath his feet. He knelt beside them and waited several seconds for them to disengage from one another and acknowledge his presence. "Cristian? Mrs. Vega?"

The intruding but familiar voice made Layla jump. Her breathing had returned to normal and she struggled to will her mind to make her arms let go of her husband, somehow fearful that if she let him go, he would leave her again. His hold on her was equally impenetrable and was working against her will. After they finally released one another, Layla glanced to her left and saw it was Cristian's doctor, wiping away her tears and sniffing in a futile attempt to halt her runny nose.

"Hey." Dr. Green spoke again. "Cristian, you had everybody worried. How are you doing?"

Cristian felt both Dr. Green's eyes and Layla's eyes focused on him. Then he noticed more sets of eyes: Antonio's, Adriana's, his mother's, Dorian's, Luis.' His heart rate began to pick up. He was feeling crowded. He was back to the present. Layla was there. But he didn't need all of these people right now. He looked down at his left hand, vaguely remembering smashing his glass on the counter before shoving all the other dishes on the counter to the floor.

Carlotta approached them, a box of tissues in her hands for her daughter-in-law as she knelt on the other side of her son.

Accepting the tissues, Layla wiped her face as Cristian finally answered the doctor.

"I....I'm fine." He raised his eyes from his hand and focused on his mother. "_Mami_, I'm okay." He saw his mother swallow and smile softly at him, the worry in her eyes betraying the smile on her face. Oh, what had he just put his mother through? He really couldn't do this right now.

Layla observed him carefully as he returned his gaze to hers. He was mentally and physically exhausted. She knew he hated the attention and desperately wanted out from under all the worry and concern.

He spoke directly to her, his eyes pleading. "Can we go home?" His voice was as feeble as his tenuous hold on his emotions.

Layla didn't bother to look at the doctor for his approval. He wanted to go home. She needed to get him home. She nodded.

"Cristian, is there--"

Cristian cut Dr. Green off without taking his eyes from his wife. His life jacket in this bottomless, treacherous sea. "I just need to go home."

Antonio and Luis hurried over to the four of them as they saw Cristian begin to help his wife rise from the floor. It took three sets of hands to help her--Cristian underestimated how weak he was--and she winced in pain. She had been sitting on the floor for so long her entire body was stiff and her legs tingled as the blood began circulating again.

"Layla--"

"I'm okay, I'm okay." Luis and Antonio released their holds on her as she wrapped her arm around her husband's waist and looked at the group. "Um, I'm just going to take him home. I'll call everybody, I promise."

Dr. Green sighed before addressing his patient. "Cristian, you have my number. Call me if you need to talk. Anytime. I mean it." He wasn't sure about letting Cristian go home after this episode but there was no way to force him to spend some time with him. His patient was very strong-willed, didn't like relying on other people, and it was still difficult to get him to completely open up about what he experienced during his kidnapping. It had been successfully repressed for so many years, they had needed to dig deep. But he never skipped an appointment and was never late, his resolve to get better for his family just barely eclipsing his reluctance to delve into the painful recesses of his mind.

They all watched as the duo slowly made their way out of the kitchen before Cristian suddenly stopped and turned back to Adriana and Luis, barely able to keep his eyes open. He was so tired he didn't think he would make it to the car. "Adriana, Luis, I'm sorry I ruined your party."

"Just get better for me, okay, and we'll let it go." She smiled, knowing he appreciated her accepting his apology, no matter how unnecessary it was.

He smiled softly and turned to Dorian. "Dorian, I'm sorry about this." He looked at her kitchen floor. "I promise I'll be back in the morning to take care of it."

"Nonsense, Cristian. Trust me. David and I have done more damage to this kitchen than you'll ever know. It's really not necessary."

Cristian smiled softly, nodded slightly, and turned to leave. Dorian would always use that trill when she said his name. He sighed heavily. He would be back in the morning.

*****

Around two o'clock the next morning, Layla rolled over as she felt Cristian leave the bed. She had been trying to sleep. He had been trying to sleep. But it was fleeting for both of them, too much having gone on that night for either of them to shut down their brain processes. Cristian hadn't said much that night. When they got home, she immediately wrapped his hand in gauze and drew him a bath, turning on some soft jazz music to help him relax, and conceded when he asked her not to leave. She was still worried completely out of her mind about him but she knew he did not want to talk about what happened. He had wanted to go home for the serenity and comfort he found there, not for an interrogation or to be fussed over. Under different circumstances, Layla would have told him to suck it up and let her fuss over him, but tonight wasn't the night. She didn't ask him if he was alright. Who _wouldn't_ know the answer to that question? She didn't ask him what he needed her to do. Be close was the other obvious answer. And that's exactly what she did.

Watching him leave the bedroom, Layla stayed where she was for a few minutes, waiting to see if he was just getting a glass of water and was coming back. When he didn't return, she climbed out of the bed to check on him. She found him sitting Indian style on the floor of the nursery, moonlight pouring into the room through the open shades. He was absentmindedly wringing his hands together, eyes directed at the wall. Layla started to turn and leave, not wanting to smother him or interrupt his heavy thoughts, but something stopped her. Something stopped her and led her to his side. She slowly sat on the floor beside him without a word. They sat together that way for several minutes until he suddenly began speaking.

"Dr. Green....he said he thinks all of this is coming back because of Eliana.....I've just been going through the motions since I got out of prison. Not dealing with it, not really living....But then God....He gave me you and the baby and I stopped sleepwalking. I woke up and it all started coming back and I realized I was still broken. Something--these nightmares, I don't know--woke me up because I needed to deal with this. I needed to get right for her. For you."

Layla remained quiet and still, letting him talk uninterrupted. Already he was telling her more than he'd told her since she found out about his nightmares.

Cristian was silent for a while longer before he cleared his throat and continued, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you think she'll like this?" Layla turned to look at him before following his gaze to the mural on the nursery walls. It spanned two adjoining walls and half of the ceiling. It was a resplendent rendition of a forest setting, realism and fairy tale meshing amazingly flawlessly. He didn't feel his right hand was 100% yet but no one would know by looking at the mural. The detail was stunning and Layla always marveled at the immense talent her husband held every time she walked into the baby's room. He had worried there was too much detail there for a baby to process but there was such great feeling, such an aura that radiated off the walls, she was certain their little girl would feel it even if she couldn't understand what she was seeing. He had worked so painstakingly on it Layla didn't even want to think about moving into a house and leaving it behind.

"She's like you. She's perceptive, a feeler." She looked back at him. "I think she'll love it." She saw him nod slightly.

"My dad....He loved all of this. Nature. He said that was what heaven looked like. When he died, I would sit outside and sketch....paint. It helped me." Layla returned her gaze to the mural and several seconds passed with nary a word spoken between them. He was giving Eliana the same thing his father had given him. An appreciation of nature's beauty: God's canvas.

She heard him release a deep, ragged sigh. "They wouldn't let me eat, they wouldn't let me sleep….The lights, the shocks….rats….these scorpions….beatings...They knew how to do it without leaving a scar…When they finally let me sleep, it was probably for an hour and then they'd start again...It was the same thing over and over..."

Layla's breath halted in her throat and she turned to look at him. She didn't want to hear this. She would give anything to help him but she did not want to hear this. She tried desperately to keep her tears at bay, not wanting him to see how much hearing about what happened to him hurt her.

Time passed again before he spoke. "He always taught me to live, to love life, always have faith...." She saw him swallow and his eyes begin to water in the moonlight. "But I wanted to die, Layla." She watched as he hung his head. "I hung on to Natalie and my mom and my brother for as long as I could..." He shook his head slowly. "I gave up. Even when I knew they weren't going to kill me, all I wanted was to die....And I hated myself. I hated myself for that....I still hate myself for that."

Layla took her eyes from his face as they began to well up and looked at the wall. The anger was beginning to fill her up. _Sons of bitches. Those sons of FUCKING BITCHES!_ She breathed deeply to calm the fire ripping through her soul. She could imagine the physical torture they'd put him through. But that wasn't the worst thing. They'd broken his spirit. He loved life, living. It was everything he held dear, what kept him connected to his father, what made her love him so much. And they'd taken it away from him. They'd killed him. Taken his life. To make him believe he was someone else. To make him take someone else's life. If she had a gun and every last one of the motherfuckers involved in the whole horrifying thing in her sights right now…

"It was all I had, Layla. All I had left." Her tears fell harder as she watched his spill over his lids. "I tried to be strong. They told me they were going to break me." He spoke through clenched teeth. "They told me. And I swore they wouldn't." His voice wavered. "I swore they wouldn't…."

She couldn't listen to it anymore. "Come here," she spoke softly through her tears as she took him into her arms. "Come here." He buried his face in her neck and let go. His anger, his hurt, his loss, his shame, his regret, all of it.

And then God smiled on him.

"You're wrong, Cristian. You're wrong. They didn't break you." She sniffed and cleared her throat. "You remember what you told me? That first night? You said I had a beautiful heart and no one could ever break my spirit." She released him from her arms and put her hands on both sides of his wet face. "Look at me." When he finally brought his eyes to hers she continued, "That's you, Cristian. That's you. You gave that to me so I could give it back to you." She began to stroke his face. "You're everything to me. I don't need anything else. I don't want anything else. Eliana, you're all she needs. She gets excited every time she hears your voice. Your mom, your brother, Jamie. All of your friends, everybody who loves your work. They don't see anything missing because _nothing's_ missing. You're not broken. They tried, baby, they tried but they couldn't do it. It didn't work. You're still here. You're still here loving us with all your heart. A broken person couldn't do that, baby. They couldn't."

Why did he believe her? Anybody could have said that to him. And they had. Why, when it came from her, from the depths of her spirit, did he finally believe it? Why did he feel the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders, a chapter ending,a door closing ...life beginning? _Why?_ His hand trembling, he brought it to her face, softly caressing her smooth skin as one would the petals of a delicate flower, unable to pry his eyes from hers. His angel. His beautiful angel. Who not only saved his life. She saved his soul.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Layla stirred in her sleep, feeling consciousness pull at her weakened clutch on slumber. Squinting her eyes, she groaned and turned from her side to lie on her back, throwing her right arm across her forehead as the early rays of sunlight forced their way into the room. Slowly opening her eyes completely, she focused them on the man across from her. He was sitting in her moon chair facing the bed, fully dressed, softly staring at her. She briefly wondered how long he'd been sitting there watching her sleep and quietly studied him back. It was strange. How she could feel more connected to him than she had ever felt before. Before last night when something in him changed. Before the chill she felt when that dark spirit fled from its hiding place within her husband out of his body, out of the nursery, out of their home, out of their lives.

After several moments, Cristian broke the silence, his soft expression unwavering. "Morning."

"Morning." She turned to glance at the digital clock on the nightstand before turning back to him. "You're up early." It was 7 o'clock Saturday morning. "Going somewhere?"

"Dorian's. I can't leave that the way I left it."

Layla only nodded in response. She knew Dorian meant it when she told him not to worry about it, but Cristian felt obligated and determined to take care of what he had inadvertently done to her kitchen. So, she wasn't about to waste her breath trying to convince him Dorian had probably already had her people come and take care of it. He'd find out when he got there she supposed. "Okay."

"I already made breakfast." He rose from the chair. "Stay put. I'll be back." She watched as he exited the bedroom and smiled. She had slept well but the last 24 hours had been physically and emotionally draining. Breakfast in bed was right on time and she sat up and positioned the pillow behind her back while waiting for Cristian to return.

After he set her up with her meal, he sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and watched her again. And damn if it wasn't unsettling. The way he could look at her. Through her. She tried to keep her focus on the delectable breakfast in front of her but it was becoming impossible, so she finally faced him. He spoke again, the lump in his throat evident. "Thank you." What else could he say? What else could he possibly say to her? Once again, he felt words just couldn't suffice. Nothing he could show her would suffice.

Layla smiled softly and shook her head. "You drive me crazy. You apologize when you didn't do anything wrong and you thank me when I didn't do anything " She watched as a smile began to spread across his features. When he started to open his mouth to argue with her--she was sure--she continued to silence him. "You're welcome." She leaned forward as much as she could with the breakfast tray in front of her along with her own bulk and squeezed his left hand.

Cristian leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. Keeping them there, he whispered, "You're my life you know that?" Pulling back, he looked into her eyes once again before releasing her hand, rising from the bed, and disappearing from the room.

*****

Monday morning Layla stood looking out her office window at the traffic below, needing a break from her chair and computer screen. She and Cristian were flying to Atlanta Thursday morning so they could return Saturday morning in time for last minute preparations for Adriana's Monday wedding. Her mother didn't know she was coming and she wanted to keep it that way. After all this time, she was fearing rejection. It would serve her right. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she jumped when there was a knock on her already open door. She turned as Keisha walked in.

"Hey, um, there's some guy here to see you." She lowered her voice. "With flowers."

Layla immediately frowned and walked toward her friend and co-worker. "What? Who is it?" Keisha knew Cristian so clearly it wasn't him. But who else would be bringing her flowers? Was today a special occasion? _No..._

Keisha shrugged and frowned along with Layla. "He said it was a surprise. I kind of already let it slip you were in. I can always tell him you're in a meeting all day."

Layla folded her arms across her chest and continued to frown. Her voice dropped to a near whisper as though her visitor were standing right outside the door and she didn't want him to hear what they were saying. "Well, what does he look like?"

"I won't lie. Dead ringer for that guy who used to play Malcolm on _The Young and the Restless_."

_Oh God. No way._ There was only one person she knew--used to know--who looked like Shemar Moore's twin brother.

Keisha continued to watch as the wheels turned in Layla's head and she uttered not a word. "You want me to get rid of him?"

_If it's him, what the hell does he want? And flowers? Shit._ Layla scratched the back of her neck. "Um, go ahead and send him in. I just hope it's not who I think it is." _Why I left California._

"You sure?" Keisha raised an eyebrow, wanting to ask more but deciding against it.

"Yeah. Mmm-hmm." Layla nodded, quickly regaining her composure. She knew she'd have questions to answer from Keisha later on but she really needed to know what this was about. If it was him.

"Okaaay." With her eyebrow still raised, Keisha turned and headed out the office, pausing once she got to the door to look back at Layla. "Positive?"

Layla tried to plaster a reassuring smile on her face. "Yeah, it's fine." Biting her bottom lip, she walked back to her desk and sat down in her chair. _Tell me it's not him. Tell me it's not him._ She looked up as Keisha led him into her office and slowly closed the door behind herself. _Thanks for nothing,_ she thought. _My goodness._ He was still as handsome as ever. But he was trouble. Had always been trouble. And she'd have noticed sooner if love wasn't so blind. And he wasn't so damn fine.

He stood just inside the door for several seconds. She was so beautiful. Still. So damn beautiful. He could barely find his voice. "Layla." He stepped toward her desk and paused. Where was it? That look she used to get in her eyes whenever he stepped into the room. It wasn't there. He had waited for what seemed like forever to see her again and this was what he got? That cool stare? He pulled his hands from behind his back to reveal the roses. Smiling, he held them in front of himself and stepped closer to her desk. Her skin. It still looked like velvet. He wanted to touch it. "I got these for you. Your favorite." The smile faded as she again said nothing and continued to look at him as though he were a stranger. "You don't look surprised to see me." He set the flowers on her desk when she failed to reach out to take them and helped himself to a chair, crossing his legs and folding his hands together.

Layla finally spoke. "I am." She made sure to keep her voice a monotone. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Okay, you saw me. Can I get back to work now?"

His anger started to flare but he fought it down. This wasn't going quite as planned. Where was the love he used to see? It should have come back the moment she saw him again, like it had for him. But that was okay. Layla had always had a fire to her. A fight in her. He loved that about her. She was tough. A challenge. He chuckled to stave off the frown that had begun to form. "I missed that. The 'Layla Attitude.'" He paused before adding with a sly grin, "I missed you."

Layla shook her head. There it was. That smug, arrogant look he always got on his face. Like he could get anything he wanted whenever he wanted. He thought she wouldn't leave him, well, because no one _ever_ walked away from him. She went from a suburb in Atlanta to living the fast life in Beverly Hills and wound up getting caught up. With him. Someone who was no good for her. No good for any woman period. He didn't even have a magic wand. Only one man had that. How did he suck her in? She sat back in her chair and sighed heavily. "Damon, what do you want? I don't have time for this."

"To talk."

"About what? I told you I don't have time. Don't play with me. I know how your smug ass works. You come in here with flowers when you know good and damn well I'm married and I know you know because I know you."

He smiled tightly and nodded. "You're right. You do know me. More than anybody ever will."

Layla sighed again and went to rustle some papers on her desk for emphasis. "Bye, Damon. Enjoy your stay in Llanview."

Damon shifted forward in his seat. "Okay, okay. I give up."

Layla lifted her eyes and stared at him, irritation written all over her face.

"You want straight talk, I'll give it to you." He let a moment linger before he continued. "I'm here because I was wrong. And I want to apologize."

Layla looked at her watch. "Wow. And it only took you three years. Okay," she looked at him again, "Get on with it and get out."

Dammit. He still didn't see it in her eyes. Not even a flicker. It was there. It had to be there. "I don't know why you fight it."

Layla was incredulous. "Fight what?"

"What you know we still have."

_Arrogant prick_. "_We_ don't have anything." Layla placed her hands on her desk and rose from her chair. He clearly needed a reminder she was a very much pregnant, very much married, very much in love with her husband, woman. She rounded the corner of her desk and leaned against it in front of him. Remembering the roses, she reached to her left, picked them up, and held them out to him. "People move on, Damon. Even from you."

He was finding it difficult to keep the pleasant expression on his face. "I want you to have them."

"Fine. I'll put them in the lobby so somebody else can enjoy them." She set the roses back on the desk before turning back to him. "I'm going to ask you for the last time what you want, Damon. I have work to do and you know I don't like games. Why are you here?" She folded her arms across her chest.

He forced a smile to his face again and rose from his chair so that he was standing directly in front of her. He looked into her eyes. "You. I want you back, Layla." God, he wanted to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers again. He slowly reached his right hand out to her cheek but she jerked her head back before he could make contact.

"Don't touch me." She quickly shook off the chill that ran through her when she saw the look in his eyes as he spoke those words. She maneuvered around him and headed back to the window before turning to face him. Smiling pompously once again, he shook his head and started to sit back down. "Don't sit back down. You're leaving." He jerked his head up at her in mid-sit and slowly stood up straight. He took several steps towards her.

*****

Keisha looked up as she heard a familiar voice in the lobby.

"Hey, she in there?" Cristian smiled at her as he pointed in the direction of his wife's office, heading in that direction as he talked.

Keisha tried to think quickly as her eyes followed his retreating frame and turned in her chair. "Uh....yes?" _Damn_. It had come out like a question. She watched as he continued to head down the hallway.

"Thanks."

She thought quickly as she rose from her chair and started towards him. "Uh, Cris?"

He stopped and took a few steps back towards her, a patient, inquisitive look on his face.

"Um, I meant to ask you. Do you know any good photographers who can take some pictures at a family reunion? I would ask you but I know you're busy." She hoped she was lying convincingly. She didn't need a photographer. Hell, she didn't even have a family reunion coming up. But she didn't know what was going on with Layla's visitor and she wanted to stall.

"Yeah, I do know a few who do freelance." She smiled as he continued to walk back toward her and continued with the charade at her desk.

*****

Layla tried to soften her voice. For some reason, it seemed necessary. "I'm married, Damon. To the best man I have ever met in my life. He _is_ my life. I love him. You and me...." She shook her head. "It was so long ago. I'm happy now. I don't love you anymore. I don't want you anymore. And if you weren't so obsessed with winning all the time you'd know you don't want me either. It's all about possession for you. Always has been."

He began to inch towards her. "No. You're wrong. Baby, I tried to go on without you after you left. But all of those other women, they--"

"Stop it. This is over. You need to go." She started for the door when she heard a brief knock before it opened, letting Cristian into her office.

Seeing that she wasn't alone, Cristian automatically began to withdraw from the room. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll just wait--." His eyes fell on the roses on Layla's desk as he retreated. "--I'll be outside." Something was off. In the few seconds that passed before Layla crossed the room to keep him from leaving, he noticed some things. Like the tension in the room, a handsome guy in a suit standing near his wife by the window, and those flowers.

Layla reached out for his arm and pulled him back into the office. She had almost forgotten about her 3000th doctor's appointment he was coming to take her to. "Hey, it's okay." Her hands wrapped around his left arm, she looked at her unwanted guest. "He was just leaving."

_So, that's the little son of a bitch_. His crass thoughts and malignant anger were masked beneath the charming smile he plastered on his face. Walking toward the couple, Damon queried, "Layla, aren't you going to introduce us?"

Cristian squinted his eyes, immediately sizing him up, before turning to look into his wife's annoyed face. He looked at the stranger again as Layla spoke.

She sighed. "Cris, this is nobody. Nobody this is my husband." _My 180 pounds of solid muscle husband you can try to fuck with if you want to._

Cristian again turned to look at his wife. Now he really knew some shit wasn't right. His attention was immediately diverted back to Nobody as Nobody took a step closer to his increasingly annoyed wife, a sly grin on his face. Nobody looked into Layla's face before speaking again. "Oh, I'm not nobody." Nobody turned his attention to him. "Layla and I go way back." Nobody held out his hand to him. "Damon Brooks."

Cristian had instinctively straightened his back and hardened his stance when Damon advanced toward Layla. Women had their intuition but his man's intuition was telling him this brazen jackass was trying to put a move on his wife right in front of him. Or taunt her with something. They clearly had a past. His eyes darkened.

Damon's hand was left hanging. He lowered it and put his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat, his jaw flexing. Cristian noticed.

Layla looked from Cristian to Damon. Damn, he was an asshole. Turning back to her husband, she asked, "You ready to go?" She released his arm and went over to her desk to get her purse. And the roses. Rejoining the two men, she ignored Damon, grabbed her husband's hand and began to lead him out of the office. "Let's go. He can let himself out." Walking down the hall to the elevator, she stopped at Keisha's desk. "Hey, do we have a vase for these? We can put them somewhere in the lobby. I don't care where."

Keisha gave her an unsure "Sure," as she accepted the roses and wondered what the hell was going on.

"Thanks."

Keisha watched as Cristian and Layla disappeared behind the elevator doors and Layla's guest soon followed, waiting for the elevator to return.

As the doors closed Damon in, the facade dropped. Layla still had it for him. He was sure. She was just fighting it. Because she had someone to hide behind. That much was clear: Vega had to go.

*****

Cristian continued to drive to the medical office building for Layla's appointment. He hadn't said a word about what happened in her office. If she wanted to talk about it, she would bring it up. He wanted to know, no denying that, but he was the first one to say the past was the past and it needed to stay where it was.

Staring out the passenger side window, Layla decided to get it over with. "I dated him when I was in California. He wasn't any good for me so I left." She turned to her husband to see his response.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he nodded. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Layla." He paused. "To be completely honest, hearing about you with other guys--not fun for me." He shrugged, turned to her, and smiled.

She looked back at him and smiled as he returned his attention to the road. Sighing, she shook her head. "Don't ever tell my mother I said this but....I really was stupid when I first got out there. I knew he wasn't any good. Had this shady business going on he was always vague about. But he kept after me for the longest time until I finally went out on a date with him. I'm not proud of it but I got all infatuated with the whole scene out there. All the nice things he had, the power, the charm. The whole thing was just stupid." Why was this reminding her of Vincent? She had left California behind and ended up with a similar type in Llanview. Slow learning curve? That had to be it. Cristian was unlike any man she'd ever known and she took that moment to thank God for that lesson.

"I tried to ignore it for awhile but I finally realized what the deal was. He didn't love me--I was just some prize. It was all about the chase and winning the prize. And keeping it looking pretty on the mantel." She shook her head again. "After awhile, he started to get....possessive. I mean, there wasn't anything I could really put my finger on or anything like that, but it was just a feeling I got. Little things. And he tried to bribe people to get acting gigs for me without my knowing it. It was just humiliating when I found out. You work so hard to get your foot in the door and then you find out it wasn't even about you. I just had to go after that."

"Possessive?" He didn't really hear anything else she said after that. He could see it. He had spent all of sixty seconds with the guy and it was obvious. He didn't like it.

She looked at him for a moment before facing forward again. He had clung to that word. Maybe she shouldn't have said that. But then she thought about that shiver she got earlier. _No. This isn't one of those Lifetime movies. He's self-serving and obnoxious, not crazy._ "Cris, it's nothing. Besides, it's been three years--"

"Three years and he's still thinking about you. I know you're impossible to forget but....he knew where you worked and brought you roses. How'd he know where you work? He reads _Craze_ and just happened to see your name???"

"I don't know. He knows Domino, too. Remember him?"

Cristian nodded.

"I didn't completely cut ties with everybody I knew out there when I got here. I'm sure word got back to him somehow." _And he knows people who can look up any damn body he wants, too._ She didn't put that addendum out there. This was probably much ado about nothing and the last thing she wanted was for Cristian to get worried and over-protective. More than he naturally was. She heard him sigh but he remained silent. She knew the wheels were turning in his mind and hoped this ridiculous ordeal would soon be forgotten. They were going to Atlanta in a couple of days, had to pack, then hurry back for Adriana's wedding. Then Cristian had to prepare for his trip to the art show. Then their daughter was going to arrive. There was so much going on, Damon Brooks would be a distant memory in no time.

*****

Lisa Williamson wiped her hands on the dish towel after letting the water run out of the sink. Hearing the doorbell ring, she glanced at her watch, frowned, and headed to the front door. It was open to let the sunshine in, the screen door the only barrier from the elements outside. When she rounded the corner and saw her daughter and son-in-law standing outside, she stopped dead in her tracks. She tried to keep it together, keep the tears at bay. That was her baby standing outside. Her baby she hadn't talked to in months and hadn't seen in even longer. She had missed her more than she could ever describe but the way Layla had completely cut her off had caused her some of the worst pain a mother could ever experience. To have senselessly lost one child who couldn't talk to her and another who simply wouldn't. She had only tried to do her best with her children. That was all she had ever done.

Keeping her face neutral, she walked to the screen door and opened it, her control slipping through her fingers as she saw the tears brimming her daughter's eyes.

God, she had missed her mother so much. Here she was, so close to becoming a mother herself, and she couldn't imagine going so long without seeing or talking to her own child. Why had she been so stubborn, so damned determined to stay angry with her mother? Sure, she had been terribly hurt finding out a huge part of her life--her father--had been a lie. But why had she wanted to hang on to that hurt in order to hurt her own mother? Years of suppressing her jealousy of her sister's relationship with their mother had surely caught up with her. And looking into her mother's face, she felt so ashamed. Cristian had been right. Shaun had been right. Her parents were not trying to hurt her by keeping her true parentage a secret. And they had given her two parents who loved her without the added drama she maybe would have been subjected to had they let Cleveland into her life. Or maybe not. But it was too late to wonder now. She had had months to digest it all and it was time to end that chapter. Start a new one. Cast another negative spirit out of their lives.

Stepping into the house, tears beginning to run rivulets down her cheeks, she continued to look into her mother's eyes. Her lips quivered as she spoke. "Mommy, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Lisa immediately pulled her into her arms and they both clung desperately to each other. Cristian remained off to the side just inside the door, smiling inside and out, so grateful to finally see that fence being mended.

"I'm sorry, too, baby. I'm sorry, too." After a long minute, both women sniffled as Lisa released her daughter and held her at arm's length. "Look at you." She scrutinized her from head to foot. "You've gotten so big! She's really almost here, isn't she?" She placed her right hand on Layla's cheek. "My little baby girl's about to have a baby girl of her own." She shook her head in wonderment. "You know I'm too young to be a grandma!"

Layla laughed and wiped at her tears while she nodded. "I know. I can't believe she's almost here either. Ready to meet her _very young_ grandma." God, she had been such an idiot all this time. She had missed out on sharing so much with her mom. All the physical changes she was going through, the emotional ones. The anxiety.

Lisa wrapped her arms around her daughter once more before releasing her and greeting her son-in-law. She smiled at him and pulled him into an embrace, her silent _thank you_ for his keeping in touch with her and encouraging her stubborn child to forgive her. Releasing him, she stood back from the two of them before officially inviting them in. "Well, come on in you two. Come sit down. Relax." All three headed into the den. "We have some catching up to do. How long are you staying?"

"Um, until Saturday." Layla eased onto the couch with Cristian's help. "Thanks. We have to get back for Adriana's wedding."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot about that."

"Yeah. I wish we could stay longer. I need to spend some time with Vange, too." She sighed as the familiar wave of sadness engulfed her. "Apologize to her, too. I haven't been down here to see her in awhile either."

"She understands, Layla. She knows we're all there for her. We're all pulling for her to come back." She paused for several seconds while her eyes took on that same heartsickness. "We just have to keep praying, keep hoping." Lisa refused to succumb to it. To that notion she was never coming back. Day after day, however, it was becoming more difficult to resist. And it killed her.

*****

Layla and Talia sat watching as Adriana and Luis danced just before several other couples joined them on the dance floor at the wedding reception. Layla's feet had had it. She hoped she didn't look that miserable but people were offering her chairs left and right every time she was on her feet so she probably did look that miserable. The ceremony had gone flawlessly. Adriana looked absolutely stunning in her gown and both she and the groom had had the sweetest, most difficult time keeping their eyes dry while they recited their vows.

She turned her attention to Shaun and his girlfriend Sherrie on the dance floor. He and Luis had completely hit it off at Cristian's "Daddy shower" a couple of weeks prior and Luis, in turn, had invited Shaun to the wedding. The men were awfully tight-lipped about that party. She wondered yet again what had happened, especially with her brother teasing her with his "I hope nobody videotaped it" line. She shook her head and smiled as she saw him look at her and wink from the dance floor. Shaun had a serious phobia about marriage that she was pretty sure Sherrie didn't know about. Layla wondered where it came from: his broken childhood, his job and the potential danger, typical male commitment phobia?

"Any idea where the Vega boys are?" Talia asked, interrupting Layla's thoughts.

Layla shook her head. "Mm-mm. You know how they are sometimes when they get together." The reception hall was huge to accommodate the number of guests. Save for several of the much-older guests seated at the tables, most were up and about dancing or socializing.

"I don't know about you but I'm feeling like a wallflower right about now."

"That is the truth." Both ladies scanned the hall from their positions. "Well, hey, if they don't show up, you want to hit the dance floor with me?"

"If you think you can hang." She smiled.

"Hey, just wait until it's your turn. Jamie's going to need some brothers and sisters soon." She laughed at Talia's stricken face just before they were approached by two very handsome men in tuxedos.

"Excuse us, ladies." Antonio glanced at his brother. "My brother and I were wondering what two breathtakingly beautiful women were doing sitting here all alone." Antonio held his hand out to his fiancee.

Talia looked at Layla. "What do you think? They seem nice enough."

"I guess we can take them for a test run."

Accepting Antonio's proffered hand, Talia rose from her chair and followed Antonio onto the dance floor. The slow songs were still in rotation.

Kneeling in front of his wife, Cristian took her hands in his, both unaware of the dark set of eyes fastened on them. "We don't have to, you know. We can just sit here and relax."

Layla moaned softly. "Mmmmm. You think I'm going to turn down a dance with the sexiest man I have ever gotten the offer from?"

Grinning at one another, Cristian helped her from her chair and led her out onto the dance floor. They laughed as Layla's belly made them feel as though they were dancing a foot apart, like twelve-year-olds at a parent chaperoned school dance.

*****

Seething. He was positively seething inside as he watched them. Watched them laugh as they held onto each other. Watched him lean in to whisper in her ear. Saw her smile. Saw her run her thumb along his lips. Saw them kiss. She used to do that with him. Swirling his drink around in his hand, he stood there. There were so many people at the reception it was easy for him to remain undetected by Layla or Vega. He had slipped in during the cake cutting and managed to stay hidden in the shadows, mingling occasionally with the other guests so as not to become too conspicuous.

Three years. Three long years he tried to get her out of his system. Fucked so many girls he had probably set a record. She had left him and he was too damn angry to chase after her. He wasn't some punk bitch. He lived and breathed the memory of Layla Williamson for almost three years while he tried to replace her. His women--he always dropped them. Nobody ever dropped him. Never.

He jumped when he felt someone tap his shoulder, instantly berating himself for the display. It was some big, tall, bald-headed brother.

"Something interesting over there?" Shaun asked.

Who the fuck was this? He gestured with the cup in his hand. "Just enjoying my drink."

Shaun turned up his nose. "Yeah? Sure about that?"

Damon held his hands out defensively to his side. "What's the problem, my man?"

Shaun deliberately turned to his sister and brother-in-law, certain the brother who had been staring them down would follow his line of sight, before turning back to him. "Riiiiight." Walking back over to Sherrie, Shaun made a mental note to get Cristian alone after the guy he caught left, which he was sure to do if, in fact, he was up to something and didn't want any more attention. Shaun had been trained to notice suspicious behavior in crowds as it was a large part of his job. And that shit he'd seen had been suspect as hell. Sure enough, as Shaun settled next to Sherrie, he saw him attempting to make a casual exit.

Ten minutes later, Shaun saw his opportunity. Cristian was on his way out of the reception hall. "I'll be right back." Leaving his date, he made his way out into the lobby area. Not seeing Cristian, he waited. He was probably in the restroom.

"Hey man." Exiting the restroom, Cristian smiled and patted Shaun on the back when he saw him.

"Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?" Shaun motioned that they stand away from the doors to the reception.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"You noticed anybody paying Layla some extra attention tonight?" He noticed Cristian's expression immediately darken as though something had clicked.

"No. Why?"

"There was this brother, about your height, Sherrie's complexion, goatee. He was watching her." He paused for emphasis. "Hard."

Cristian's jaw flexed and he ran his hand over his mouth before pursing his lips and nodding to himself. He put his hands on his hips and brought his eyes back to Shaun's. "He was watching her?"

Shaun nodded.

"He still here?"

Shaking his head, Shaun replied, "No. I scared him off. You know who this is?"

Cristian looked in the direction of the doors to the banquet hall. The music had picked up. _Dammit._ He knew something was off. He _knew_. His voice became menacingly low. "I think so." He turned back to Shaun. "A week ago, this guy Layla used to date shows up at her office with flowers out of nowhere. He was after her. You couldn't miss it. Smug looking son of a bitch."

Shaun frowned. "He try something?" Damn, his sister was nine months pregnant. What was the deal with this?

"No. Not while I was there. But she told me later he was possessive so she left him."

Shaun raised an eyebrow and continued with his thought. "A week ago. And he's still hanging around. What's he doing?"

Cristian shook his head. His voice was again low, his eyes reflecting an angry determination. "I don't know but I'm going to find out."

"You know his name?"

"He said it was Damon Brooks. Layla knew him in L.A."

Shaun nodded again. "Okay. Let me do this. Could be nothing. But some things ain't worth the gamble." He watched as his brother-in-law nodded, the steam coming out of his ears and the worry etching itself on his face. "Hey."

Cristian turned to him.

"I'm on it. Just look after my sister."

After several seconds, Cristian nodded reluctantly as an unspoken but mutual understanding passed between them. Cooling his heels right now felt impossible. Layla and his child could be in danger. Not a damn thing in the world was more important to him than them. Not a damn thing. He watched as Shaun disappeared back into the reception hall. He soon followed, determined to keep cool at least until the reception was over. He didn't want to scare her and he could be overreacting. But if not....


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Damon Brooks opened the passenger side door of the car where Elijah was waiting for him a block down from the reception hall. Once he got in, he looked over his shoulder through the rear window.

"What's up? They see you?"

Still looking out the window, Damon instructed Elijah to drive. "No. Let's roll." Once the car was in motion, Damon turned around in his seat and faced forward. "They didn't see me but somebody else did. I need to know who the fuck that was. He was a little too interested."

Watching the road in front of him, Elijah asked, "Was it a cop?"

"I don't know. We should double back and wait for him to come out. Find out who the hell he is. I don't want anybody fucking this up. I've waited too damn long, Eli." He shook his head resolutely. "Too damn long."

"I'm telling you. You should chill out on this, man. It's some crazy shit for real--"

"I gotta get her back!" he snapped. "We belong together. She's going to realize it. I know she is."

"She's about to have a baby, dawg. Probably any fucking second. A baby that ain't even yours. What the hell are you going to do about that? This is fucking crazy."

"We'll raise it together."

"Dawg--"

"--Which is why Vega dies."

Elijah turned and glanced at his boss. His eyes were bugged out. Crazy-looking. And he knew he meant business. Elijah faced the road again and shook his head. How in the hell did Damon end up like this? And why the hell was he going along with it? _I owe him._ "Look, let's just forget about going back and waiting for this cat. We don't need to go looking for trouble where there isn't any. We're not on our home turf, remember?"

Damon didn't answer him. He only stared straight ahead, eyes blazing as he thought about Layla. Thought about her going home with Vega later, making love to him when she should be in his arms. Where she belonged. Where she would soon be.

*****

Layla left the bedroom to get some water. She had already showered and was more than ready to turn in for the night. She saw Cristian sitting at the computer desk in the living room as she walked through on her way to the kitchen. His back was turned to the computer and he was looking out the open window into the night sky. He had seemed somewhat distracted during the latter half of the reception. Though he had turned the corner when it came to the trauma of his past, she knew he wasn't a hundred percent. Healing wasn't instantaneous. They had discussed as much during their Atlanta trip, and Cristian was going to continue with his therapy sessions a while longer. No matter how hard it was, talking about it helped, and he had told her there were still some things he wasn't comfortable sharing with anyone yet that he needed to work through. Maybe that was what his problem was tonight. Blair had come over to spend some time with them during the reception. And so had Todd, being his usual pleasant self. She had noticed Cristian grinding his teeth so hard she wondered why they hadn't turned to powder by the time Todd moved on.

Leaving her glass on the kitchen counter, she leaned against the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. "You coming to bed?"

He didn't turn around. "In a minute."

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" Layla still wondered whose bright idea it was to have a huge wedding on a Monday evening when people had to go to work the next day.

"Yeah."

_Somebody's real talkative._ She walked over to him and stood behind his chair. She placed her hands on his shoulders and began to massage them. He was tense. "Cristian, what's wrong?" It was several seconds before he answered.

"Layla, did you remember to take your iron today? You told me to remind you but I forgot. It was a long day..." His voice trailed off.

Stopping with the massage, she walked around him and stood directly in his line of sight. He looked up at her and she answered his question with another question. A variation of her last one. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are we going to go to bed like this?"

He took his eyes from hers and looked down. She was 36 weeks along and he absolutely did not want to scare her or add to her stress. If he could have his way, he wouldn't let any of this touch her. He would keep her and his child in a bubble where not a single negative influence could penetrate. But this wasn't Candy Land. She needed to know because he couldn't be with her 24/7 and he wanted her to be more alert of her surroundings when he wasn't. Just in case. Brooks could be harmless but they needed to be careful in case he wasn't. And the feeling in his gut told him he wasn't. His gut rarely let him down.

He stood to his feet and looked into her face, trying to decide how to tell her. He sighed heavily before speaking. "Shaun saw that Brooks guy watching you at the reception." He watched as an incredulous expression crossed her features.

"What? Where the hell did this come from? Shaun? He doesn't even know--" She squinted her eyes. "_What?_"

"Shaun described him to me. Said he was watching you."

Layla shook her head in disbelief. "Why would he be at the reception? How did he even get in? How come I didn't see him?" She shook her head again and turned her back to him to face the open window. "This is crazy."

"I didn't see him either. He didn't want to be seen, Layla. That's the point. There were a few hundred people there at least."

"Shaun could have been describing anybody."

"He said he scared him off. Why would he leave if he wasn't up to something?"

Layla turned back around. "Have you seen my brother? It's his job to scare people off and he's good at it."

Cristian sighed explosively. Why was she finding this so hard to believe? He was beginning to get frustrated. They were so close to celebrating the happiest moment of their lives together--welcoming their first child--and something else had to go wrong. "Do you honestly think this whole thing is a coincidence? Somebody you were involved with shows up out of the blue after three years with roses and looks at you like he wants to...." He didn't finish his thought. Shaking his head and sighing again, he continued. "Then someone who just happens to look like him shows up at your best friend's wedding and Shaun--your brother--just _happens_ to catch him watching you, just _happens_ to run him off and just _happens_ to think it was serious enough to pull me off to the side to tell me about it???" He took a breath. "Not everybody's an angel out there, Layla. Even people we think we know."

"So what are you saying? I'm too naive and stupid to know when somebody may be trying to hurt me? I'm stupid for getting mixed up with him in the first place?? Look at me. I'm this close to having a baby. It doesn't make any sense for Damon to try something now. It just doesn't."

"Dammit, Layla." He shook his head at her in disbelief. "Why aren't you even considering this? Do you still have feelings for this guy or something???"

Damn. Damn it all to hell. He shouldn't have said that. He was frustrated, he was beginning to get worried out of his mind. And stupid shit was beginning to come out of his mouth. Why in the hell on God's green earth did he say that?

Layla's eyes darkened. _No he did not._ Expletives filled her mind and rose in her throat. But she refused to let them out. It was God and God alone who kept her mouth shut. Before she said something she would regret. Without uttering a word, she walked away from him. Into the bedroom and shut the door.

He immediately felt sick to his stomach. Sliding both hands down his face, he sat back down in the chair and put his head in his hands. He wanted to pound his fist into the wall for being so stupid and upsetting his wife. He hated seeing her hurt and upset. And for the first time ever, it was all his fault. How could he have said that after everything she had done for him, everything she gave him, everything she had to go through emotionally to be with him?

Layla shut herself in the bathroom, turned on the light, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was angry. Confused. And a consuming and completely unsettling feeling had set up shop in her stomach. It didn't make sense. How could this be happening? Her life had been one difficult, trying event after another in the past year. She'd lost her sister. Caught her boyfriend cheating on her. Slept with her own sister's ex-boyfriend, gotten pregnant by and fallen in love with him. Found out her father wasn't her father and fallen out with her mother, all while trying to be strong through her husband's painful ordeal with pregnancy hormones raging through her system. Now this. It wasn't that she believed Cristian was overreacting and wrong: she was scared to death he was right. She had tried to forget that look in Damon's eyes. And she didn't want to believe it. It was one damn thing after another. Everything was beginning to be too much. She had been this close to blowing up at her husband when they had never been even remotely close to an argument before as long as she'd known him. That had shaken her foundation most of all. She began to shake, her breathing fast and furious as she tried to keep her tears from falling, feeling as though a nervous breakdown was just one haggard breath away.

He needed to apologize but he was afraid she wasn't ready to listen to him. He was afraid she was too angry with him and he didn't want to make things worse. Layla didn't need all this stress. Not now. That fucking son of a bitch Brooks. His fear and anger needed a target and Brooks was the right one. Cristian got up from the chair and grabbed his cell. He couldn't wait for Shaun. He was going to find this bastard tonight and put an end to this potential threat once and for all.

He had grabbed his keys and headed for the door leading to the garage when he stopped. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? He couldn't leave her here alone. For all he knew, Brooks could be outside somewhere watching. Waiting for him to leave. And he'd told Shaun he'd let him handle it. _"Just look after my sister,"_ he had said.

Cristian threw his head back and took a deep breath. He needed to calm down. He needed to calm down and think. He had already tried and convicted Brooks of hurting his wife when he hadn't even done anything. And may not even have any plans to. He was jumping the gun and acting paranoid. Layla could be right that Brooks was harmless. But he had had so much taken from him in his life he was desperate not to lose Layla and Eliana and it was screwing with his judgment. And his mouth.

Lowering his head, he turned away from the door and set his keys down. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, looking at the closed bedroom door. He couldn't leave her here alone and he couldn't let her go to sleep without apologizing to her. _Never go to bed angry._ That was one rule he intended to always follow.

Opening the bedroom door, he stepped inside and looked around. The bathroom door was closed. Walking over to it, he knocked softly. "Layla?" He waited several seconds for an answer. He didn't get one. "Layla, can I come in?" He again waited. Again, there was nothing.

Laying his forehead on the door, he stood there berating himself once again. He could hear her on the other side of the door. Muffling a cry. He shook his head from side to side as it lay pressed against the door. His heart ached. "Layla....I didn't mean that. I don't know why I said it....I'm....I'm scared. I'm not thinking straight." He waited again, silently pleading with her to say something, anything. Open the door and kick his ass. _Something._

Layla sat on the toilet seat lid willing herself not to break down. She heard him. Once her anger subsided, she knew he hadn't meant it. He had just gotten frustrated with her while she stubbornly tried to convince herself he was completely off base with his concern. If she could just calm herself down, she would open the door and let him know it was okay. If she could just keep it together....She let out yet another ragged sigh and felt her bearings coming back. She didn't want him to see her like this. She was strong. She had spent so much time--unwarranted or not--trying to prove to him she was strong enough for both of them. So he wouldn't worry and could focus on getting himself better. If she lost it now...._Get it together, girl._

When she felt she'd composed herself and Eliana had calmed down after sensing her mother's distress, she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She rose from the toilet and looked at herself in the mirror. She _was_ strong. And Damon, if he _was_ up to something, was going to realize he wasn't going to win this time and he was going to leave before anything happened. And they were going to welcome their baby girl into the world with both of their pasts long buried and forgotten. She turned and reached for the doorknob, opening the door. He was standing there, hands on either side of the door frame, almost looking surprised that she had opened the door. She took one look into his eyes, his soft, compassionate eyes that showed he knew her better than she knew herself, and lost it.

*****

"Morning."

Layla returned the greeting as she walked into the kitchen and smiled softly. There was seriously nothing sexier than an Adonis in a woman's kitchen making her breakfast in nothing but pajama bottoms and a gold chain. "Morning." She watched as he grabbed two bowls and set them on the table.

"Just oatmeal and bacon today, Beautiful." He turned from the table and shrugged. "Somebody hasn't been to the grocery store in awhile."

Layla started toward the table. "Oh, _somebody,_ huh?" She sat in the chair he pulled out for her. "Thank you."

"Hey, I didn't name any names. You're welcome." He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head after she was seated. Going back into the kitchen, he grabbed two saucer plates with bacon and set them on the table when he returned. After one more trip, he set a glass of orange juice in front of her and himself as he sat. They said a quick prayer before they began eating their breakfast. "Is your mom still planning to come up here in a couple weeks?"

Layla set her glass down on the table and nodded. Her mother had volunteered to fly to Llanview around the time the baby was due to help her get adjusted. Although she had Cristian's mom and a few friends with kids to help her, she was beyond relieved she was going to have her own mother staying at the house with her so she could ask all the embarrassing questions in the world to make sure she was doing everything she was supposed to be doing. For Cristian's peace of mind, she had gotten her mother to come mid-May. "She's going to come right before you leave so you can relax about going." She watched him as he sighed heavily and concentrated on his oatmeal.

Her expression softened. Once again, he was being everything she needed. Last night he had held her and listened to her as her control slipped through her fingers and she broke down, the stress of the past year finally getting to her. He listened when all she could stammer between her tears was that she was tired. Just so tired.

And this morning he had left it all behind. He wasn't coddling her, asking her if she was okay, looking at her like she should have FRAGILE stamped across her forehead. And she was grateful. Grateful that he wasn't looking at her differently as she had needlessly feared. She didn't want to think about last night and certainly didn't want to dwell on it.

"It does make me feel better but I still don't think I should go."

He wasn't going to bring last night up either. He couldn't imagine the strain she had been under during her entire pregnancy, most of which was all due to him. Simply being with him had been a problem because of who he'd been with. Then there were all the sleepless nights he had caused. She was so strong--the only woman he knew who was as strong as his mother--and with her tears came strength, not weakness. He didn't think she realized that.

And they hadn't discussed Damon Brooks anymore either.

Gathering her into his arms after breakfast as she picked up her purse and keys to leave, he inhaled her fruity body splash scent. "Call me when you get there, okay?" All she had to do was get to work safely; there were plenty of people in her building and on her floor to deter anyone from trying anything. Though they hadn't discussed Brooks, Cristian for damn sure hadn't forgotten. He wanted to drive her. Lord knows he would have felt more comfortable doing that. But he was trying to convince himself Brooks was getting the hell out of Dodge after Shaun peeped his game. He was trying to convince himself that they were soon going to live a normal, as-stress-free-as-it-can-be life with their children, their cat, their dog, and their white picket fence. They had had more than enough drama for several lifetimes. Releasing her, he looked into her face.

"I will. And I'll be careful." _Just in case._ She hadn't forgotten either. Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed him softly before dropping back onto her feet and smoothing out his goatee with her thumb as though her kiss had ruffled it.

While she was still close, he placed his hands on her stomach while continuing to look into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She kissed him quickly again and headed for the door.

Sighing heavily, he watched as the door to the attached garage closed and resisted the urge to hop in his car and follow her. Instead, he chose to go to their bedroom and get dressed for work and wait for her call.

Twenty minutes later, she called.

******

Returning to his hotel room after an early dinner, Damon slid the key card in and out quickly before opening the door. Walking down the short hallway leading to the suite's living room area, he stopped in his tracks when he saw he wasn't alone. Determined not to let the surprise register on his features, he walked further into the room before stopping. His very familiar guest was sitting casually in the sofa chair, a drink in his hand, a calm, neutral expression on his face.

"Enjoy your dinner?"

"Service was terrible."

"It was your last meal in Llanview so I wouldn't worry about that."

Grinning, Damon opened his suit jacket and sat in the couch across from his visitor, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers. "Why is that?"

Shaun picked up the small manila envelope that was between the arm of the chair and him. Dumping the contents on the coffee table, he sat back in the chair. "That's why."

Damon's eyes immediately darkened when he saw the envelope--his envelope. His trespasser had been busy in his hotel room prior to his arrival and had found all of the pictures. Layla's pictures.

Shaun continued. "You're leaving town, Brooks. Tonight."

He couldn't control his anger beneath his smirk. His private photos had been compromised. "I leave when I'm good and damn ready to leave."

Shaun sat up and leaned forward. "You're leaving. Tonight. I know why you're here." He pointed to the pictures of his sister on the coffee table. "It ain't happening. You're done stalking her. It's over."

Damon smiled and scratched his ear. _Who the fuck is this motherfucker??? A friend of Vega's?_ He decided to fish. "I see what this is." He paused for effect. "I don't think Vega's going to like knowing his boy has a thing for his wife." Wife. He hated referring to Layla as another man's wife. _Widow._ Much better.

Shaun said nothing. Just sat there and stared, exuding a calm but sinister determination. He knew it was making Brooks uncomfortable. So he continued and watched as his antagonist uncrossed his legs and shifted, trying to look as though his feathers had not been ruffled.

He quickly began speaking from the unease. "I'm just here on business. Layla's an old friend. She probably wouldn't be too happy to see me so I kept my distance at the wedding. That's all." Rising from the couch, Damon stuck his hands in his pants pockets and tried to head casually over to the window.

Shaun never took his eyes off his target. Brooks was heading for his gun. Obviously. And lying through his fucking teeth. It was time to end this. Pulling his Glock out of his leather jacket as he rose from the chair, he pointed it at the side of Brooks' head in one fluid motion once Brooks passed his chair.

Damon froze and held his hands out to his side. This motherfucker wasn't crazy enough to shoot him in his hotel room but he played along anyway. Just in case.

"You're leaving town, Brooks. Tonight. And you're taking your boy Washington with you." Finished talking, Shaun wanted to make an impression. A damn good impression that showed just how much he was not fucking around. He lowered his gun quickly and slammed it into Brooks' abdomen before the shorter man knew what was happening. When he doubled over, Shaun used the gun to clobber him in the back of his head. He went down hard. Shoving him onto his back with his foot, Shaun pressed his shoe to his neck just enough to stop his coughing fit. And cut off his air supply. "We clear? Do not fuck with me." When Brooks' eyes began rolling back into his head, Shaun removed his wingtip, re-holstered his weapon, popped his collar, and left Damon Brooks gasping for air on his hotel room floor.

*****

Cristian heard a knock on his studio door. Distractedly, he invited whoever it was in. He had been having trouble concentrating all day. Finally, he had had to put his commissioned work aside and freestyle on a blank canvas until he was mentally able to create what he wanted. "Come in."

"Cristian. Hey."

Cristian turned from the easel as the familiar voice registered. "Natalie." He was surprised to see her. He honestly couldn't remember the last time they had run into each other. It was probably back when he was in the hospital last year. He wiped his hands on a paint-stained cloth and walked over to his guest. "Hey. What are you doing here? Everything okay?"

Natalie adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. "Everything's fine. Actually, I came to see about you."

Cristian shrugged slightly and settled his hands on his waist. "What about me?" He asked even though he knew the answer. She had heard about what happened at _La Boulaie_.

"I heard what happened. I wanted to make sure you were okay." She honestly did. She wasn't perfect and knew deep down she had hurt him when she should have been the last person to do so. There would always be a part of her that loved him and cared about his well-being. And when she found out about his breakdown, she had a feeling she knew what it was about.

He didn't want to talk about it. About what happened at Luis and Adriana's party. About any of it. But he recognized the sincerity in her eyes. And Natalie _had_ been his wife when the whole thing started. Thoughts of her had helped him make it through. Maybe her visit now was to bring it all full circle. Though their relationship looked complex on the surface, it was really quite simple: they had been in love enough to commit their lives to one another at one point but clearly something had been missing. He was where he was supposed to be now and he hoped she was where she was supposed to be. _Vincent?_ Or at least close to it. Everybody had a different journey. Theirs just seemed to be linked through a lot of the same people. A whole lot. Him. Her. John McBain. Evangeline. Layla. Vincent. Jessica and Antonio even further back. _We need to get the hell out of Llanview._ "Okay?" He nodded slightly. "Yes. A hundred percent?" He smiled softly and tilted his head as he thought quickly. "I'm getting there."

Natalie nodded and smiled. "Good. I'm glad."

"I've been talking to someone for awhile. It's helped a lot."

A slightly surprised look crossed her features. "Layla actually got you to talk to someone, huh?" she asked teasingly. She remembered when she had tried to get him to see a doctor about what happened to him when he first came back.

Looking down bashfully, Cristian nodded before meeting her eyes again. "Yeah." His expression turned wistful as he continued. "She's my rock. I wouldn't have gotten this far without her."

Natalie again nodded. _Layla._ She never would have thought Cristian would end up with Layla. Married to and expecting his first child with her no less. They seemed so...different. Cristian was reserved, introspective. Layla was the opposite. Of course, she never would have thought he'd end up with Evangeline either, though for entirely different reasons. And who'd have thought she'd end up with Vincent Jones? "How is she?" She felt comfortable enough to ask. She and Cristian were in a good place, and had been for awhile. She was not proud about how she and Vincent had gotten together but, as bad as it sounded, she was talking to a man who had married his ex-girlfriend's sister. Twice. Hell, all of them made a good soap opera cast. And not a one of them could throw stones.

"Ready to be not pregnant again." He smiled to himself as he recalled what she said to him the night before his cousin's wedding when she was too uncomfortable to sleep. _"You did this to me. I don't care how fine you are, we are never having sex again!" She was so bluffing._

"When's the baby due again?"

"The day before Memorial Day."

"Wow. That's right around the corner, isn't it?"

Cristian released a small whoosh of air as he nodded. "Yeah. I still can't believe it sometimes."

"I can. I know you've always wanted kids. You're going to be the best father, Cristian. That's one lucky little girl."

He shook his head. "I'm the lucky one."

Cristian's cell phone ringing in his pocket interrupted the warm moment. It was Shaun. And it was sobering. For a moment, he had forgotten all about it. "Um, I have to take this."

Nodding her head in understanding, Natalie quickly excused herself. "It's okay. I better get going anyway. I'll see you later, huh?" She turned and headed for the door.

"Natalie?" She turned to him. "Thanks."

Smiling, she opened the door and left.

Cristian depressed the Send button on his phone. "Shaun? What's up?"

"Can you talk?"

"Yeah. What'd you find out?"

Shaun had already made it up in his mind to tell Cristian everything. If it were him, he'd want to know. Cristian wanted to protect his family and knowing everything was crucial. "I went to his hotel. Only business he's here for is Layla."

There it was again. That anger and fear. His heart began to pound. "Shit."

"Pictures of her everywhere. Dude is obsessed. I told him to get lost--tonight--but I don't think this is over. He's not here alone either. Brother named Elijah Washington flew here with him. I don't know what that's about yet. Probably came to help him."

_Elijah Washington?_ "Help him to do what? Kidnap her?!" He started pacing. Panicking. "Where's his hotel, Shaun?"

"Cristian--"

"Where the fuck is his hotel?!"

"Vega! I told you to let me handle it." He wasn't about to give that information up. Not right now. Brooks was going to meet a fate worse than his former co-worker Ted if he gave up his location to Cristian. But it was moot anyway. Brooks knew he was marked and would be checking out.

"Shaun, this piece of shit is after my wife! My family! If you think I'm gonna let this son of a bitch lay a hand on--"

"Layla doesn't need you locked up right now, Vega."

"If it keeps her and my daughter safe that's just how it's going to be."

Shaun had to get his brother-in-law's mind off murder. "Where is she?"

Cristian shook his head and rubbed his forehead with his free left hand to clear his thoughts and try to temper his anger. "Uh, she's at work. She's..." He glanced at his watch. It was 4:30. She got off at five. "Dammit. I gotta go. I gotta go pick her up. I'm not taking any more chances."

"Good. Go get her and go home. I'll be in touch." And with that, he hung up the phone.

After Shaun hung up, Cristian immediately called Layla's office on his way out the door. She didn't answer. Panic crescendoing, he tried her cell.

"Hey."

_Gracias a Dios._ "Layla? Where are you?"

"I'm on my way to my car. I'm leaving a little early today." It was eerily quiet in the parking garage. It was always like that but today she really noticed. She had her mace in her hand and her eyes sweeping the area around her. Just in case.

"Layla, turn around and go back inside. I'm coming to pick you up."

"Cris, I'm almost to my car. I'm okay." She could hear panic in his voice. Something must have happened.

"Layla, please, just turn around and go back inside."

She was starting to get nervous as a result of his tone but she was already at her car and used the remote on her key chain to unlock the doors. "Cris, I'm already at my car." She peered inside, checking the back seat like she usually did. She'd seen too many movies. It was clear. "I'm opening the d--" She paused.

He heard her pause. "What is it?" He was in the parking lot racing to his own car and his pace slowed as he strained to listen to the other end, wondering why she had stopped talking mid-sentence.

There was a teddy bear in the front passenger seat. And a note. She looked around nervously. She only saw a few other people heading to their cars, preoccupied with their own thoughts.

"Layla!" He turned the key in the Audi.

"Um, I'm okay. It's just....There's a bear...a-a teddy bear in the front seat."

_The fuck???_ "Layla, please, just go back inside and wait for me. I'm on my way."

"Okay. I'm-I'm going." _Oh my God._ What the hell was going on? Why was this happening? He had gotten into her car? He was here again? She closed the driver's side door and began to hurry back to the building, her grip on her cell phone and mace like a vice.

Several seconds passed and he didn't hear anything from her. "Layla? Are you back inside yet?" _Dammit!_ Traffic was a bitch during rush hour. He was this close to making the sidewalk an express lane.

Layla breathed a small sigh of relief as she made it back into the lobby where several people were still around. "I'm inside." She had breathed a sigh of relief but her voice was small. Because she had seen the handwritten note: YOU'LL NEED ME.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Cristian's hand firmly wrapped around Layla's as they entered the parking garage, he led her back to her car shortly after arriving at the _Craze_ offices in record time--despite the rush hour traffic. He could feel a tremble coursing through her body through her touch. A teddy bear. He'd gotten into her car and left her a fucking teddy bear. Layla loved teddy bears. That son of a bitch. "It's in the front seat?" He tried to keep the emotion out of his voice. Inside he was blazing and seeing red. Many different shades of red. But he needed to stay calm. Layla was too rattled to see him lose his cool right now.

"Yeah." Her voice was still small.

When they reached the car, Cristian released her hand and opened the driver's side door, peering inside. The crease in his forehead deepened as he saw the note. _"You'll need me?" What the hell..._ Standing up straight, he turned to face his wife. Her eyes were on the ground in front of her, her arms wrapped around herself. "You saw it?" He asked softly, referring to the note. She'd only mentioned the bear. She nodded, lifting her eyes from the ground to her left at nothing in particular. Closing the door, he wrapped his right arm around her and headed to his car.

After she was seated, he closed the door and headed to the driver's side. Turning the key in the ignition, he turned to look at her. "It's not going to happen. Okay? I promise."

Layla finally turned to look at him. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust in his words like she always had. Cristian didn't lie. He also never gave up. He had been through sheer hell and never gave up. They were going to be okay. They _were_. If she could only get the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach to agree with her thoughts.

He watched as she nodded her head and forced a small smile to her face. He would die before he let anything happen to her or their daughter. And come back from the damn grave to make sure they were still safe.

*****

"They're both going to die!" Damon's rage reverberated around his hotel suite as he reiterated what happened with his visitor when he returned from leaving Layla's gift in her car. His head was still throbbing, his abdomen sore, and he had a sizable bruise on his neck. "Find out who the fuck he is and take them both out!"

"Damon, we can't just take them out. You might as well videotape the confession now 'cause Layla's going to know who did it. What the hell were you thinking going to her job again anyway?"

Nostrils still flaring as he paced in front of Elijah, he tried to keep it together. His patience was so far gone he didn't even know what it was anymore. "I don't care anymore! I need her. And when Vega's gone, she's going to need me."

Elijah tried to withhold his sigh. "Look, if we're going to do this, it's got to look like an accident. His brother's a cop--a detective. It'll be personal." The next part he added with emphasis. "And that's gonna take some time."

Damon shook his head as he continued to pace. "I don't have time. Just find out who that little bitch was and get rid of him _and_ Vega."

*****

"You'll need me?" Antonio sat behind his desk at the LPD as he thought about what the note meant. He looked at his brother. "Why would she need him? You think he knows something we don't?" _Obviously_. There were just some thoughts he did not want to put out there. Not in front of Layla. Brooks could be planning anything. Rape. Rapists wanted that power over their victims. Wanted them weakened. Was he planning on hurting the baby so that in his twisted mind, Layla would need to go back to him, to a time where the baby never existed? Was he planning to get rid of Cristian and anybody else who was close to her? "Cris," he looked at his brother. "This might have to do with you. If he's after Layla, you're the only person standing in his way."

Standing next to Cristian as he leaned on his brother's desk, Layla remained quiet and was uncharacteristically subdued. This entire ordeal was draining the energy and life she usually brought to every room right out of her. But Antonio's words jolted her out of her daze and shook her to her core. She turned to look at her husband. Was that it? Was Damon going to try to hurt Cristian? Maybe she and Eliana weren't his immediate targets. The thought of something happening to her husband nearly paralyzed her.

Cristian turned to look at his wife, the fear gripping her eyes as they held onto his making his heart leap into his throat. Even though he would give his life for his wife and child without hesitation, the thought of leaving them alone was almost too much to bear. And from the look in her eyes, his leaving them seemed tantamount to killing _her_. No way was he going to let that happen. No way. Tearing his eyes away, he returned his focus to his brother and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Look, whatever his plan is, we need to stop him before anything happens."

Antonio scratched the back of his neck as he stood. He didn't want to say it. Wouldn't have wanted to hear it if Talia was nine months pregnant and being stalked. But there wasn't much the LPD could do at this point. "I really don't want to say this, but--"

"There's nothing you can do." Cristian finished the line for him, nodding his head with frustration clearly evident in his voice. He knew there wasn't much to file a complaint with, and even then, what would a restraining order do until it was too late? Brooks had shown up at her job with flowers, watched her at a wedding reception, and left a teddy bear and unsigned note in her car. _Forensic Files_-type work aside, there was no easy way to prove he'd left them and definitely no way the LPD would devote the expensive resources to find out. Shaun's, Layla's, and his gut feelings aside, Brooks had not yet proven himself to be a threat in the eyes of the law.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." He sounded dejected even though he knew deep down ahead of time this endeavor would be futile.

"I meant there's not much the LPD can do _officially._ This doesn't sound like a joke and I hate to even say it but unless this guy actually tries something--"

Cristian immediately began shaking his head. "No way, Antonio. No way I'm letting it get to that point."

"Cristian. I can't do anything officially but I didn't say I wasn't going to do anything." He looked at both of them. "Just give me a couple days. I need to talk to some of my people, see if I can get some favors returned. At least keep Layla covered while she's at work until this is over."

"A couple days? That's all this guy needs!" Cristian sighed explosively and began pacing. He knew he was being impatient but he didn't care.

"Cris, I'm on this, okay? I need to get both of you covered. At least give me until tomorrow."

Cristian stopped pacing in front of Antonio's desk long enough to add, "Layla's priority. I can take care of myself."

"Cris, please," Layla finally spoke up. They had been talking about her like she wasn't even in the room. And, mentally, she wasn't. She waited until he stopped pacing and looked at her. His attitude was pissing her off. _"I can take care of myself"_ caveman-type shit wasn't going to stop a bullet. "He could be right." She turned her attention back to her brother-in-law. "Cristian's priority, too." She looked back at her husband daring him to argue with her. He didn't.

Antonio looked between them. "Okay. I'm on it. I promise. Why don't you go home? Try to get some sleep. We'll all pray this whole thing will be over soon."

*****

"His name is Shaun Glenn aka Gwen. Get this: he works for that brother, Vincent Jones. The one who set Vega up, remember?" Elijah relayed what he had learned to his boss the following day.

Damon raised his left eyebrow in curiosity. He still had a damn headache. "So he's not a friend of Vega's. What the hell is his interest, then?"

"Well, word is Jones and Layla were together right up until she got with Vega."

Damon couldn't control the feeling that rose from deep within his stomach. Jealousy. Already, he hated Jones almost as much as he hated Vega. He was yet another man who had gotten to indulge in the exoticness that was Layla in his absence. His Layla. Damon was distracted as Elijah continued.

"Maybe Glenn still feels protective of her or something for his boss." He didn't put his other thought out there: that maybe Jones still carried a torch for Layla and was using Glenn to keep any other competition away. Damon was crazy enough already.

"Doesn't even matter anymore. I want both of them gone."

*****

"Okay, I'm gonna take off. Gotta go see about Layla." Shaun rose from his chair and headed for the door. It was around six o'clock that evening and he was on his way to the Vega household to give his sister what he had gotten earlier in the day. He knew she was up to speed on self defense: she had taken classes, was in great shape, and she stayed packing some mace. But she was nine months pregnant and not only did that slow her reflexes and screw with her center of gravity, she couldn't do everything she used to be able to do without risking her child.

"She still doing okay?" Vincent asked.

Shaun paused at the open door and shrugged. "Would you be?"

Vincent nodded slowly in understanding to the rhetorical question. "Listen, you know we can take care of this. Just give me the word."

"I know." Shaun sighed. "We do that right now, before anything really happens, Layla's going to know it was us. You know how she is. It's going to eat her up and I don't want that to happen. At least not yet. But this motherfucker has one chance."

"Did Rob get back with you? This Brooks guy still in town?"

"He doesn't know yet. Been checking the hotels. He's probably been laying low somewhere since my visit under a different name."

Vincent nodded again. "I'll put D on it, too. "

Shaun nodded. "Alright. Be cool." He continued out the door and into his Escalade on his way to his sister's house.

*****

"How does it feel? You need a refresher?" Shaun asked as he observed his sister familiarizing herself with the 9mm Smith & Wesson M&P he had gotten for her along with the proper license, the 45-day Pennsylvania waiting period conveniently waived via his connections in high places.

Layla held the weapon in her hand with the safety on while getting a feel for it. Years ago, her father had taught both her and Evangeline how to handle one but she never thought in a million years she would be in the position to _need_ to put those skills to use. Incidentally, Damon had also spent some time showing her how to shoot back in California. Holding it in her hand now, she didn't know that she felt safer. Or even confident in her ability to use it if she ever needed to. But she did know that it was going to be out of her house as soon as her daughter became mobile. And hopefully long before that. Hopefully she would never have to use it. Ever.

"Are you sure about this, Layla? I think maybe Shaun should go with you to a shooting range or something so you can get some practice in." Cristian knew his status as a convicted felon would prevent him from stepping foot in one. And call him a chauvinistic asshole but he wasn't loving the idea that his wife was going to be carrying a gun in her purse for protection. He felt it shouldn't be coming to this. He was her husband and it was his job to protect his family. She shouldn't have to be worrying about this. She shouldn't be considering carrying a gun. She should be sitting back and letting him try to make her as comfortable as possible while she waited to give birth to their first child.

"We should probably make a trip to one tomorrow," Shaun replied as the phone rang.

Layla watched as Cristian rose from the couch to grab the cordless that had been left in the kitchen. Turning her attention back to her brother, she replied, "Yeah, it's been awhile. I just hope I never have to use it. I just can't believe this whole thing, Shaun. We shouldn't be worried about this right now." She released a ragged sigh. "I-I don't even have the baby's room finished. I need to be working on that. I wanted to do some cleaning because I know I won't feel like it once she's here. And then Fred is coming. I need to be planning what I want to make for dinner while he's here. Mother's Day is coming and my mom's coming and I....I just....I can't believe this." She shook her head and sighed heavily.

"Layla, it's going to be okay. We still got a lot of catching up to do, right? And I have a niece I need to get ready to spoil rotten." He smiled reassuringly as he watched her look toward the kitchen where Cristian was talking on the phone. "It's going to be okay."

"You know, Shaun. It's not really me and the baby I'm worried about." She turned back to him. "That note. What if he's really after Cris? To get him out of the way." She shook her head. "It can't happen."

"Layla, it's not going to--"

"No. No. You don't understand." She swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head again as her eyes began to water. "_It can't happen._"

Shaun studied her closely for a moment. She was serious. Dead serious. Pleadingly serious. It took a lot to pull on his heartstrings. A _lot_. She, that little girl, and Vega were family now. Outside of Vincent and his mother when she was alive, they were all the family he'd ever had. At that moment, he knew what he had to do. The order had to go out.

*****

"Damon? Damon? Come on, sweetie, wake up. Wake up."

"Mmm...." Damon groaned as he awakened from his nap on the couch with kisses being planted all over his face. He smiled as he focused on her, her long hair tickling his face as she finally stopped kissing him and smiled.

"Are you ready to go?"

He looked deeply into her eyes. "Do we really have to go?" He wrapped his arms around her to keep her in place on top of him on the couch. "We can have our own celebration right here, just the two of us." The baby cried just at that moment and she laughed. "Okay, the three of us."

"Baby, you know they've been planning this party for us for a minute. We only get to celebrate our one year anniversary once."

"You're right. We can always have our own celebration tonight when we get back." He wiggled his eyebrows, choosing not to hide the desire he held for her.

"If you're good, I'll see what we can do." She kissed him again before looking into his eyes. "I can't believe how much time I wasted. Thank you for waiting for me. Making me remember what we have. I love you so much, baby."

He caressed her face. "I love you more." Drawing her into another kiss, they both sighed as their son's whining increased. "Okay, he's definitely up."

She nodded. "Yep." She broke free from his grasp on her and began to rise. "I'll go get him." She began walking towards Damon Jr.'s wing. "Only eleven and a half months old and he's already just like you. Impatient as hell."

Damon smiled as he watched her shake her head on her way out of the living room. Damn, he loved that woman.

The phone ringing startled Damon out of his sleep. Reaching to grab his cellular from the coffee table, he cursed at his dream being interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Got some more info. I'll be over in a minute." It was Elijah.

"Okay." Hanging up, he laid back down on the couch, a smile spreading across his face. That dream had told him everything he needed to know. It was so vivid, he could practically taste her. It consumed him. She loved him. She needed him to make her remember what they had. Vega was her scapegoat. And was wasting time. Precious time.

Not another minute needed to be wasted. The time was now. She would be back in his arms by tomorrow night.

*****

Twenty minutes later, Damon opened the door and let Elijah in. Still angry his dream had been interrupted, he barked, "So what the hell is it?"

"There's a problem. I know Glenn's connection to this. He's her brother."

Damon frowned. "Her brother? She told me she only had a sister. A lawyer."

Elijah shrugged. "So her mom was getting some elsewhere."

Damon walked away from his friend as he thought. So Glenn was her brother. Not competition. At least not directly. Still, his interest could stem from more than just big brotherhood. He could still be protecting his boss Jones' interest. He was still a problem. But he was Layla's brother. Damon didn't want to hurt her by taking her brother from her. She had already lost her sister to a coma. Maybe he could let Glenn live....No. Layla needed a clean break from all of it: Vega, Jones and, by extension, her brother. He would be there for her. He would be everything she needed. He and their son.

The internal question quickly resolved, Damon turned back to Elijah. "It's not a problem. Tomorrow's the day. It's gone on too long already. We get rid of both of them tomorrow."

"I told you I need some time--"

Damon's temper ignited rapidly. "This is over! I want it done tomorrow! Fuck this shit!"

"Damon--"

Brooks pulled his gun from the small of his back and pointed it at his friend. He wasn't taking any chances not having it on his person again if Glenn came back. "Now. We clear?"

Elijah nodded. "Clear."

Lowering his weapon, Damon suddenly grinned, enjoying the visual of Vega meeting his demise he had just been granted. Then, as quickly as it had arrived, the grin vanished. "I mean it. Get it done. Tomorrow. Do not cross me this time, Eli, or you'll be on the wrong side of this equation."

Hiding his anger at being threatened, Elijah said nothing, turned, and walked out the door without another word.

*****

The following day, hidden behind a large plant and a number of paintings, Elijah watched his target. Cristian Vega. Former Inmate #109463. He watched as Vega studied the painting of a beautiful, ebony-skinned pregnant woman sleeping on a couch, her right hand resting lovingly across her stomach, an unconscious, content smile on her face betraying all the events of the past several days Elijah had been involved in. It was Layla, Damon's obsession, another man's wife. And from the way Vega was looking at his wife's likeness, his life.

As he remained hidden, Elijah wondered if he could do this. From the moment Damon ordered him to find out Layla's whereabouts and current activities, and he had found out Vega was her husband, he had been torn, deciding immediately to keep his connection to Vega to himself.

Back in Statesville, Elijah knew one thing about Vega: He didn't belong. There were murderous thugs, punks, skinheads, and wanksters everywhere in the clink. Vega was none of the above. He was respected. Everyone knew he was a good guy and that led a few unfortunate souls to think he was soft. Even him. Until that day Vega stuck his neck out for him. Though by virtue of being Hispanic he was automatically inducted into the Latino gang, Vega tried to keep to himself, only pounding heads into pavement when he had no choice. Or even when he did have a choice and was trying to defend someone else. Like in his case.

Elijah continued to watch as Cristian prepared to set the portrait in a frame. He couldn't do this. But he had to. Damon had been like a brother to him. He saved his life, got him off the streets after he decided to start anew in California after his release from prison. He owed him the clothes on his back. But Damon was a brother you did not cross. And after fucking up that last assignment, Elijah had one last chance to prove himself.

He watched as Cristian gingerly inserted the picture in the frame. He glanced at his watch. It was 4:20. He had two choices: follow orders, complete the assignment, and live to see another day, or spare another man's life, a man who risked his neck for a brother he didn't even know, a man who painstakingly painted portraits of his wife carrying his unborn child, and face Damon's wrath. His life or Vega's. Life or death. Right or wrong.

He shook his head. _I never was and ain't never gonna be right._ The decision was made. Wrong it was.

Stepping out from his hiding place, his gun pointed at his target, he stopped when Vega, sensing someone's presence, turned to face him.

It took him a few seconds--a gun being pointed in his face a definite distraction--but the face came back to him. Shaun had mentioned Brooks' accomplice. _Washington_. Automatically lifting his hands slightly as a show of surrender, Cristian said nothing, trying to assess the situation. The bad as hell situation he was suddenly in. The situation Layla and Antonio had feared. The situation he couldn't let end the way it was obviously planned.

Holding the gun steady, Elijah took a few steps closer, positive he saw recognition in Vega's eyes. "You know I don't want to do this."

Cristian kept his voice low, calm, and steady. "Do what? Put my wife and my daughter in the hands of a madman?"

_It's a girl. Damon thinks it's a boy...._ "So you know who I'm working for."

"I know." Cristian involuntarily swallowed even though there was no saliva left in his mouth, hoping his heart wasn't showing pounding through his shirt. "I also know I'll do anything to keep him from hurting them." He paused, never taking his dark, piercing eyes from his antagonist's. "Anything." He was looking for an opening. Any opening. Washington was at least ten feet away. If he went for him, he was going to get shot no matter what. How he could fuck up Washington's deadly aim on the way was the question.

Elijah tightened his grip on his weapon. "He doesn't want to hurt them." He shook his head incredulously. This whole thing was still too crazy to believe. "Hard as that is to believe."

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

"It should. All this shit he's going through to get her, he's not going to get rid of her."

"That's too bad. 'Cause he's never going to get her."

"I'll give him the message."

"Tell him I said I'll see him in hell, too."

Elijah kept his face neutral. Time was up. But he had something to say first. For his own conscience. "I guess I should probably say thank you....Statesville."

"How? Bullet in the head?" Cristian studied him closely, trying to recognize the kid he met in the pen. It was do or die time.

Why was he even talking to him? He should've just pulled the trigger before Vega even knew he was there. He shook his head. "No......Layla. The baby. I'll look out for them. I owe you that much."

He saw it.

"Turn around."

"Hard to do it when they're looking right at you?"

Elijah shifted and shrugged. "Not really. Thought it might be easier for you."

Cristian stood there for several moments, watching. Gauging. He couldn't leave her. He could not leave her alone. "Just remember what you owe me." Slowly, Cristian turned his back to his executioner.

It happened so fast he didn't feel a thing. Blackness. Nothing.

*****

After saying goodnight to Monica and Tara as they checked in on her before going home for the night, Layla sat at her desk and gasped, clutching her belly as her daughter suddenly felt determined to beat her insides to a pulp. This little girl was going to be a fighter, no doubt about that. Just like her daddy. _And her mama._ Layla took a deep breath in and out, waiting for the baby to ease up and the pain to subside. After several moments, it finally did and she glanced at her watch. It was five o'clock, time for her to go home. Since the teddy bear incident two days ago, Cristian had taken to driving her to work, walking her into her office, and coming back to her office to escort her home at the end of the workday. He didn't like to keep her waiting, especially after a long day at work while carrying a nearly full term baby, so she wondered if he might have run into some unusually heavy traffic or had to leave his studio a little later than planned. He should have called, though. Reaching into her drawer to pull out her purse, she opened it and grabbed her cell, checking to see if he'd called her on it and she just didn't hear it ring. There were no missed calls. She'd spoken to him at lunch earlier in the day and learned that Antonio had gotten some police officers to volunteer their own personal time to keep an eye out for both of them on rotation starting tomorrow. She was beyond grateful that he had gotten it done so fast and a small amount of relief washed over her. Shaun was also calling in some favors to get them some private protection.

After a few moments, she decided to call Cristian. Dialing his cell first, she waited while the phone rang and rang and then his voicemail picked up. "This is Cristian. Leave a message and I'll call you back." She didn't know why her heart began pounding so loudly she could hear it over her thoughts. How many times had she called him and gotten his voicemail before when nothing was wrong? Sometimes he had it on vibrate and didn't hear it. Sometimes he was in the middle of an important conversation and would call her right back. Once or twice he'd even left his phone at home or at his mother's diner when he went there for lunch. Deciding to call his studio number, she again waited while the phone rang. Again, she heard his voice as his business voicemail answered. She called his cell again, not caring that her initial missed call would show up on his phone when he finally looked at it and he would call her right back.

If he could.

Flipping her phone closed, she stood up from her desk and started to pace, suddenly feeling hyperventilation overcome her. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering his phone? Especially now with everything going on? They had promised each other to stay close to their phones in case of an emergency. In case Eliana decided to make an early appearance. In case something....else....happened. If he was going to be late picking her up, why didn't he call her? _Okay, calm down, Layla. He's only five minutes late. Maybe he's stuck in traffic and his phone died._ She shook her head as she tried to think. _But it didn't go straight to voicemail. No, Maybe he's on his way up the elevator right now and left his phone in the car. Yeah. That's it. He's in the building._

Walking over to her open office door, she walked out and down the hall to the lobby in front of the elevator doors. Keisha's desk was vacant. When five o'clock came around, homegirl said her peace and was out not a minute later. Settling down on one of the couches, she waited, wanting to save herself the extra thirty seconds of worrying by catching him the minute he walked through the elevator doors.

*****

Shaun and Vincent were going over the itinerary for the following day in Vincent's office, the plan already in motion, when Shaun's cell phone rang. He answered it immediately. "Layla? What's up?"

"Shaun, um, h-have you heard from Cristian?" Her breathing was shallow, air entering and leaving her lungs in a staccato fashion.

"No. What's going on?"

"He's not here. He's--he's supposed to pick me up from work and--and he's not here yet. He's not answering his phone. I've called him a million times and he won't answer his phone!"

_Shit!_ He heard the unadulterated fear in her voice instantly. She sounded like she was about to fall into an abyss of sheer panic. He had to grab her before she fell. "Layla, calm down. Where are you? Are you inside--"

"I'm at work! Something's happened to him, Shaun. Oh my God! Something's happened to him!" She couldn't stop her tears. She couldn't stop her tears because she felt it in her bones.

Shaun glanced at his watch. It was fifteen after five. Anything could have held Cristian up for fifteen minutes but even he felt it was out of character for him not to call with everything going on. "Listen, Layla. Stay put. I'm going to go check out his studio just in case. Just stay put and--"

"No. No! I can't!" Layla grabbed her purse. Her Honda was still in the garage where she'd left it the day before yesterday. They hadn't gotten around to driving it home yet and she hadn't wanted to drive it anyway. There was something about her personal space being invaded in that manner that disturbed her more than she thought it would.

"Layla, don't go anywhere. I don't need to worry about you, too. Please, just stay--"

"No! I have to find him!"

"Layla! Shit!" Shaun swore and slammed his phone shut as the connection died.

"What is it?" Vincent asked.

"Something's up with Cristian."

Vincent stood up from his desk. "What do you need me to do?" He and Cristian didn't really have any kind of relationship, but he still had some amends to make. And as far as Layla went, he would always, always care.

Shaun thought quickly. "Layla's going to try and find him." Shaun headed for the door. They were much closer to Layla's office than to Cristian's studio. "Go to her office and try to head her off. I'm going to Cristian's studio. I need to get there first." He paused to choose his words carefully, not wanting to put anything he didn't want to imagine out in the universe. "In case something's happened."

Vincent rushed out the door right after him. "I'm on it."

"Get there yesterday, Vincent." Shaun yelled over his shoulder. "She was on her way out the door."

*****

Hurriedly, feeling as though it was all a dream, an unspeakably horrific dream, Layla shot from her office back to the elevator doors. Like an out of body experience, she watched herself as she pressed the down button and waited. When it finally arrived, she entered the empty car and depressed the G2 garage level button. It was already 5:20. Why had she waited so long? Why had she waited so long to go find him? He was okay. He had to be okay. _He had to be okay._ It took forever for her to reach the ground level. Exiting the elevator into a nearly empty garage--this level cleared out quickly by 5:15, most people finding their way home with the quickness--she ran as fast as she could toward her temporarily abandoned car, her hands holding her belly as if to keep the baby in place as she moved.

Nearly to her destination, she slowed her movement slightly, removed her hands from her stomach, and began going through her purse on her shoulder, trying to find the keys she knew she'd left in the bottom.

Suddenly, she froze as she heard someone call her name. Still several feet from her car, her left hand still in her purse, she reflexively turned and felt the blood drain from her face.

"Layla." He smiled as he came from around his car one lane over. "Hey. How are you?"

It was all she needed. Him to show up right now. She knew it now. She knew in her heart something had happened to her husband. The blood that had drained from her face made a resurgence and her anger boiled over. Rage and heartbreak pouring from within the depths of her soul. "What did you do to him?" Tears began to stream down her cheeks. "What did you do??!!"

Damon held out his hands defensively at his sides and took a step closer. "What are you talking about?" He had to play along. For awhile. Until she accepted it. Because he knew good and damn well what she was talking about.

"You know what I'm talking about!" She shook her head in absolute and profound disbelief, her tears clouding her vision. She couldn't believe this man used to hold her heart. Her voice involuntarily dropped several decibels. "How could you do this to me?"

He felt a twinge of guilt. Only a twinge. "Layla, what are you talking about? I'm standing right here. I didn't do anything." He inched closer. He needed to calm her down. Take her into his arms and calm her down.

Her hand found it. The gun in her purse. Taking it out, she used both hands to point it at his chest, finding her voice again. "Stay the hell away from me, Damon. You stay the hell away from me and tell me what you did to Cristian! Where is he?!" By this time, a few strangers had huddled undetected several yards away, trying to assess what was going on and see if one of the others in the small group was going to step in before something happened. Bystander effect in full effect.

Damon stood still, almost in shock. What was this? A gun? Where the hell did the gun come from? Layla with a gun pointed at him? She wouldn't shoot him. She wouldn't. She couldn't. "Layla, baby. You don't need the gun." He began moving toward her again. "We can talk about--"

Layla tightened her grip on the weapon, her finger steady on the trigger. How it remained that way through her shock, hurt, anger, and tears was a mystery to her. She lowered her aim as he continued to inch his way closer. "You move one more step without telling me what you did to my husband I swear I'll blow your fucking balls off right now! Do not test me! Where is he?!" She screamed at him.

This time, the blood drained from _his_ face. He stopped moving.

But it didn't matter. She was going to shoot him anyway. Something about not having much left to lose. She'd heard that expression but never experienced it before. Until now. If she shot him square in the balls, she was damn sure he would tell her what she wanted to know. She concentrated on her aim and started to pull the trigger.

"Layla? What's going on--"

Startled, Layla turned in the direction of Blair's voice at the same moment Damon turned, whipping his formerly concealed 9mm from his waistband and pointing it at the newcomer.

"Drop it, Brooks!" A gun in his hand, Vincent appeared out of nowhere. Damon turned.

A gunshot rang out. And everything changed.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Everything happened so fast. One minute she was ready to put a bullet where she knew it would hurt him the most and the next it was all over.

He was lying on the concrete. Completely still. Lowering her own weapon, she looked first at Blair who had hurried to her side and was clearly confused about what had just gone down. Then she looked at Vincent, who was placing his gun in the small of his back. _Where did he come from? What the hell just happened?_ She looked as a few bystanders encroached upon the scene. Then her attention fell back to the lifeless form on the ground. Vincent was checking for a pulse. He didn't find one.

Damon was dead. What was she feeling right now? She didn't know. Right now, she didn't care. There wasn't time for her to feel for him. Cristian. She had to find him. Without a word, she came out of her shock-induced haze and turned toward her car.

"Layla? Where're you going? What's going on?" Blair didn't get a response as Layla stuffed her gun in her purse, found her keys, unlocked the Honda, and got in the driver's seat.

"Layla!" Vincent called. She didn't hear him. Turning the key in the ignition, she threw it in drive and the tires squealed as she floored it and tore out of the parking garage, her mind on only one person.

*****

Dialing 911 from his cell, Shaun shook his brother-in-law--almost violently--trying to wake him up. For his sister. For Layla. He wasn't clear on what had happened. By the time he arrived at Lindsay's building, the parking lot was nearly empty, Cristian's sports car one of the few still in the lot. His studio door was locked and Shaun had had to use force to get in. Once he was inside, he immediately found Cristian lying on his stomach. Unconscious. There were no telltale signs of physical wounds, no blood. But he was not responding to anything Shaun did. Cold water, shaking, invoking Layla's name. Nothing.

Hanging up with the 911 operator, Shaun dialed Vincent's cell number, hoping he'd made it to Layla's building in time.

"It's over," was in place of a greeting as Vincent answered his phone.

"What?" Shaun frowned slightly, needing clarification.

"Brooks. I had to take him out. He was here."

_Shit!_ "Layla okay?" He heard Vincent sigh.

"Yeah, but she took off a minute ago. I gotta stay for the cops. It was self-defense so it'll be clean. You find Vega?"

Shaun looked at his brother-in-law. "Yeah. He's alive but he's not moving. Drugged maybe. I need to call Layla." Hanging up with Vincent, he dialed his sister's number. He didn't get an answer. He tried her again. _Damn._ Now why wasn't she answering? Vincent said Brooks was gone and Layla was okay. What could she be doing?

*****

She was getting close to her husband's studio. Somehow she was lucid enough to check the oncoming traffic for Cristian's silver Audi--if by a miracle he was perfectly fine and on his way to find her--as she sped through traffic. A cop could try to pull her over if he wanted. She wasn't stopping until she reached her destination. Her cell phone had rang a couple times. It wasn't Cristian. It was Shaun, probably trying to keep her from doing whatever it was she was going to do and she didn't want to hear it. So what was she going to do? What if she got there and Cristian wasn't there? Then what? What if he was and he was.... She shook her head. He'd told her he wasn't going to let anything happen to them. He'd _told_ her. But this was real life. It wasn't the movies where she could expect a last-second reprieve and a happy ending. Could she? If he was okay, why hadn't he called her? More sick to her stomach than she had ever been in her entire life and totally fearful of what she was going to find--or not find--her crying recommenced full force, the salty water running into the corners of her mouth and blurring her vision.

Several miles later, she was a minute away when she heard emergency vehicles and looked in her rearview mirror through her tears to see if they were coming from behind her. _Shit._ They were and she hated having to slow down, but she did, allowing the ambulance and cruiser to pass her. She wasn't going to stop for a cop wanting to ticket her for speeding but she couldn't hinder an ambulance trying to help someone in need. Even though she was in need, too. Desperately. The thought not even clicking that they could be on their way to help her missing husband, her eyes widened as she turned down Reed Hartman and saw the vehicles stopping. At Lindsay's gallery.

Stepping on the gas pedal with even more force, she screeched to a halt behind the parked ambulance, opened her car door--not bothering to grab her purse, the car keys, or close the door even--and ran as fast as she could inside the building. All thought at that point had ceased. She felt as though she were on autopilot. _Get to Cristian's studio. Get to Cristian's studio._

Shaun met the EMTs at the end of the hall that housed Cristian's art studio. They hurried in his direction and followed him inside as he told them what little he knew. They had just reached their patient when Shaun heard a scream.

"Cristian!"

His sister was standing in the doorway. As she started in Cristian's direction, he headed her off and grabbed her gently. "He's okay, Layla! He's okay!" He tried to restrain her with as little force as possible but she was struggling to release herself.

"Let me go! Cristian!" How could he say he was okay? He was lying on the floor, not moving. His eyes were closed. He wasn't moving!

"Layla, he's okay--"

"Cris!"

"Layla!" She had freed herself but he quickly grabbed her again. "Layla! He's okay. He's breathing. He's going to be okay. You gotta let them help him." He continued to hold her as she continued to fight to be by her husband's side. It took several seconds but she finally stopped struggling as his words made their way from her ears to her brain for processing. He spoke again as it began to register and she tried to catch her breath. "He's breathing, Layla. He's just out. He's going to be okay."

Still trying to catch her breath, she watched helplessly from within her brother's arms as the EMTs moved him from the floor to the stretcher and got him ready for transport. It was like deja vu. She reached out and touched his arm as they hurried past her and Shaun. They were right behind him as he was taken to the ambulance. Layla rode with him while Shaun got her purse and keys from her car, and shut and locked the doors.

The EMT riding in the back with her quickly informed her of his stats in an effort to alleviate some of her worry. "His vitals are okay, ma'am. Heart rate is a little slow but it's not in the danger zone. The guy who called back there, he thinks he might have been drugged. We're not going to know more until they do some tests at the hospital."

Nodding silently, Layla continued to hold her husband's hand and pray, her tear ducts finally completely dried out. He was alive. He was breathing. Toxicology results aside, she thanked God for her movie moment. Her miracle. Cristian had kept his promise: he didn't leave them.

*****

Layla and Shaun rose from their chairs in the waiting room as they saw a man who looked like a doctor exit the ER exam room Cristian had disappeared into. She watched as he spoke with someone at the desk, looked over at her, nodded, and began heading her way.

"Mrs. Vega?"

She nodded. "How is he? Is he okay?" Her nerves were absolutely raw. After she'd gotten past the fear that Damon had killed him, her mind began going places she didn't want it to go. Was he really drugged or was it something else? What kind of drug? One with permanent side effects? Being drugged could lead to anything. Even....comas. _Oh my God._ No. She wouldn't go there again. He was not in a coma. He was _not_ in a coma. No. No way. _No way!_ She swallowed, her throat bone dry.

"He's going to be okay. It looks like he was drugged with a benzodiazepine--a tranquilizer. Whoever did this just wanted him out for awhile but I don't expect to see any lasting effects."

"So, he's not in a coma?"

The doctor hid the frown that was beginning to develop at the leap his patient's wife had made regarding the prognosis. He shook his head. "No, no. He's not in a coma. We just have to wait for the drug to wear off and for him to wake up." He grasped her shoulder reassuringly. "A nurse will be back soon to take you to his room once he's settled."

Nodding, Layla looked up into Shaun's face, her tear ducts having recharged themselves. She fell into her brother's strong arms as her body shook. A coma. She could not have handled it again. No doubt about it. She absolutely could not have handled it.

*****

Cristian opened his eyes slowly, halfheartedly wondering where he was. He felt sluggish and confused as he tried to remember what happened. He closed his eyes again, his lids feeling like cement, as it began to come back to him. His studio. A gun. Layla. _Layla_. His eyes opened wide. His breath caught in his throat and the synapses in his brain began to fire at a rapid pace as the fear overcame him.

"Cris?" Layla rose from the chair flanking his bedside. He was awake!

His pounding heart reached a pinnacle as he turned his head and tried to focus on the subject of his palpitations. "Layla?" Was it really her? His vision was cloudy. He squinted as his eyes continued to focus. "Are you okay?" He struggled to lift himself upright. He needed to look at her, scrutinize her. Every inch of her. To make sure she was okay.

She reached out and stroked his face to calm him. He slowly settled back down. "I'm okay."

She tried. She really tried to block the tears as relief washed over her. "I'm so perfect now that you're awake." She took a deep breath and sighed heavily. Then, out of nowhere, she hit him in his left shoulder. "But I told you not to scare me like that again, Cristian!" She swiped at the moisture flowing down her cheeks and swallowed back a sob. "I told you!"

This time, he didn't joke about her penchant for violence towards him. Because he knew she was serious. He swallowed as he looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. It was a lot to take in. All of it. What he'd put his wife through. Again. Their lives once again spiraling out of control. Not knowing what had happened while he was out and why Layla was standing before him looking completely unscathed when he knew it was all supposed to end for them that day.

Sitting back down in the chair, Layla put her head in her hands and shook it from side to side. What was her problem? It wasn't his fault. He didn't drug himself. "I'm sorry." She remained silent for several seconds. "I'm just so tired....When they said you were drugged all I could think about was...."

Cristian looked down, knowing she was thinking about her sister and really not knowing how to comfort her. It had been a year. As much as it pained him to think about for his wife and daughter's sakes, she wasn't coming back. "I wish I could bring her back for you, Layla. I would do it in a heartbeat."

Layla slowly nodded and looked back up at him. She needed to change the subject before she lost it again. "We should get the nurse. Let them know you're awake so I can take you home and we can leave this whole, ugly mess behind us."

He wished they could. His gut may have been right about Washington when he knew he wasn't going to kill him, but Brooks was still out there. Washington must have drugged him after he knocked him out with the butt of his gun so he could have time to get away before Brooks found out he didn't follow through with the murder.

She realized he didn't know. "He's gone."

He turned his head in confusion as he felt his eyelids gaining weight again.

"He's dead. It's over." She didn't want to upset him so she gave him the short version for now. He didn't need to know Damon had shown up at her job fully intending to take her somewhere with him thinking Cristian was no longer a roadblock. "He tried to shoot Vincent when he showed up but....Vincent got him first."

She shook her head as she finally allowed herself to think about it. Would she have killed him? Vincent. He'd saved her from doing something that would have probably eaten her up inside. Although she was determined to destroy his manhood at the moment she decided to pull the trigger, she didn't know if that would have been enough. If he had gotten Cristian killed, there was no telling what she would have done. No, that wasn't right. She knew what she would have done. And it would have left her daughter without a father or a mother. God, what kind of a mother was she? She'd have taken Damon out in vengeance before being a responsible parent to her child. Then she would have had nothing. The one and only love of her life gone while she was locked away from her one and only child. Hers and Cristian's flesh and blood.

But she was feeling torn. Everything said and done, Damon was dead. He was human. He had family and friends who cared about him. He had a mother. Two sisters and a brother. And he had been taken from them. No matter the monster he had turned out to be, he hadn't always been that way. He had had his good moments and she knew he adored his nieces and nephews like no other. They would only have memories of him now. Who knew what had made him snap. It wasn't her. She knew that much. His interest in her was a side effect, not the disease.

Digesting the news silently while wondering how the hell Vincent got in the picture, Cristian nodded and studied the introspective look on his wife's face before she quietly rose to leave the room and flag down the nurse at the nurse's station situated right outside his door. Like with his own issues, he knew she would get through this with time. And he'd be there. He would always be there.

*****

"Mmm, Mom, that smells good." A week later, Layla walked into the house after a long day at work, absolutely loving that her mother was visiting with them. And that she was cooking. They were trying to fall back into some semblance of a normal routine after the hellish week they had had following Adriana's wedding. Cristian had been released from the hospital after a day, police reports had been taken care of, and the only things remaining were the emotional scars. Both needing to move on, they were grateful for the distraction Layla's mother's arrival had presented when they picked her up from the airport the day before. They hadn't told her about what happened and weren't planning to either. It was over. They were going to move on. And that was that.

"How was your day, baby?" Lisa asked as she finished putting the final touches on dinner.

Layla walked into the kitchen and settled onto one of the stools at the island. She and Cristian had fallen into a pattern that had him making breakfast in the morning since he left after she did, and her preparing dinner since she got home first. Around the time she entered her last trimester, she had completely slacked off so they both shared the dinnertime task or said to hell with it altogether and got take-out. Coming home to a home cooked meal was heaven at this point and she was going to miss it big time when it was over. "Kind of slow and miserable but I _stay_ miserable nowadays anyway."

"It's almost over so just keep trying to get all the sleep you can while you can."

Layla nodded. "I know. I'm trying but it's almost impossible to get comfortable. I'm as big as a house."

"You are not. You're all belly."

_Right_. "I'm also Snow White and the seven dwarfs." Smirking at her mother who cut her the eye, she was surprised to hear the garage door open. Cristian must have decided to leave his studio early since he had to leave for his trip to Europe in the morning. He had two tickets to the art show and was going to be meeting one of his friends from Puerto Rico who shared his love for art there since Layla couldn't fly.

"Cristian's home already?" Lisa asked.

Layla shrugged. "I guess. He's pretty much packed but he probably wants to turn in early tonight."

Nodding, Lisa turned to the door as it opened and her son-in-law stepped in with what looked like a picture frame. Maybe it was something he had to take with him.

"Hey," Cristian spoke to the two women as he set the painting against the couch in the living room and dropped his keys.

"Hey," Layla turned to him and accepted his quick kiss as he approached her side.

He rubbed her back. "How are you feeling?"

"Miserable."

"Oh, okay," he deadpanned. He gave her a noisy kiss on her cheek and laughed as she playfully pushed him away.

"Get away from me."

Still chuckling he went to his mother-in-law's side. "I'm surrounded by beautiful ladies, tonight. How was your day, Mom?" "Mrs. Williamson" was a mouthful so he shortened it awhile ago. She didn't seem to mind. He kissed her on her cheek. "That smells good. I've been waiting for a good, home cooked meal. Layla's been starving me to death since I met her." He knew something was going to come hurling at him at any moment and grinned as he waited. He didn't wait long. He soon caught a dish rag to his bicep.

"Don't even play. You don't look like you're starving." Layla smiled, the grin on her face and the tone of her voice softening her words. Changing the subject, she asked, "So what is that you brought in? I thought they already had the piece they were going to show."

Cristian nodded as he reached into the refrigerator to get something to drink. "They do. That's something else." That "something else" was his Mother's Day gift to her. The painting he had been working on for a couple months. It was Friday and Mother's Day wasn't until Sunday but he wasn't going to be home to give it to her since he was leaving in the morning. A return to normalcy following their most recent nightmare meant he was still slated to go. So he wanted to give it to her tonight.

"Oh, okay." She shrugged it off, not thinking about it further.

After dinner, Cristian washed the dishes while Layla and her mother relaxed in the living room. He was almost finished when he heard Layla exclaim, "Cristian! Oh my gosh!"

Good lord his wife was nosy. Gorgeous inside and out but nosy as hell. She'd uncovered the painting. "Oh my gosh!" he heard her exclaim once again as he made his way out of the kitchen.

"Cristian," Lisa held her hand to her chest while she shook her head in awe. "This is so beautiful. I can't believe you did this. It looks just like her."

"Oh my gosh..." She turned to her husband who was leaning against the wall separating the kitchen from the living room, a completely satisfied expression on his face. "Baby, I can't believe you did this for me. It's beautiful." She shook her head some more before turning back to him. "I swear, if I ever hear you say your hand still isn't back to normal again I'm going to hurt you."

Smiling sheepishly, Cristian looked down for a moment before returning his gaze to his wife. "Happy Mother's Day, Beautiful."

Rising from the couch, Layla's eyes began to water. She walked over to him. "Come here." She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you so much. That's the best gift I've ever gotten." Pulling away, her arms still around him, she looked into his eyes and continued teasingly. "Let's see you top this one next year, buster." Laughing softly as she tried to control her tears before they got out of hand, she held him to her chest again. Lord have mercy she was so in love with this man. This amazingly talented man.

After she released him, he wiped away her tears and kissed her. "I love you."

"I hate you. I really do."

He grinned. "I know." Turning his attention to his mother-in-law, he addressed her. "And thank you." He wrapped his arm around Layla, held her to his side, and looked at her. "For giving me her."

*****

Later that night, Layla watched from their bed as Cristian finished packing the last of his belongings for his short trip after taking a shower. Lisa had insisted on taking the sofa bed in the living room though they'd planned on letting her take their more comfortable bed during her stay. "Did you remember to cancel your therapy session on Tuesday?" Good grief. What was it about that man with long, curly hair and a goatee? She was never going to let him get rid of them.

He nodded. "I did the last time I was there."

"You have your phone cards?"

"Yep."

"You're going to call me everyday, right?"

"Everyday. More than once if I want."

"Just checking." She watched as he closed his bag and went to set it on the floor by the door. The way that man strolled...His swagger was unparalleled.

"Shit, Layla. I'm sorry. I forgot to pick up that packet from the travel agent for your mom." He started to climb into the bed. _Like a panther_.

"That's okay. I'll just get it tomorrow. She is so going to love it."

He nodded. "She will. You said she's been wanting to go since you were little. Better late than never, right?"

Layla nodded. "Yeah." They had gotten her a paid trip for her and two friends to spend two weeks traveling in Europe for Mother's Day. Raising up on her right elbow, she ran her left hand down his bare arm. His skin had been kissed by the warm, late spring sun. "I'm going to miss you. I don't think we've ever been apart this long before."

"Hey, I didn't want to go. But _somebody_ threatened me with bodily harm if I didn't."

She sighed. "I know. This is just too important for you to miss."

He sighed and didn't say another word as his eyes turned to focus on the local news airing on the television. Sliding over closer to him, she used her left hand to caress the side of his face and turn it toward her so that he was looking at her. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

"No," he stated simply.

Leaning down, she sweetly kissed his full lips. "You sure?"

"Positive."

She leaned down and kissed him again. Because those lips were calling to her the way they always tended to. Because he wasn't going to be sleeping soundly beside her for four whole nights and she was going to miss him like hell. Because he was always giving her the best gift: him. Through his words, his actions, his paintings, his unconditional love.

Before he knew it, his hands went to her hair as her kiss deepened. After she moved her mouth to his neck and massaged his crotch through his briefs, he tried to catch his breath. "Mmm, I don't think we should be doing this."

"What?" she asked nonchalantly between kisses on his neck.

"This."

"Why?" She stopped working on his neck and looked at his lips before devouring them again. She parted them and heard him moan.

He tried to speak. "What if it....What if it...triggers...labor or something." Good God he could not find the strength. He could not find the strength to resist her. "I'm leaving.....remember?"

She stopped kissing him long enough to reply, "It won't." Her hand went wandering some more. His body was indeed a wonderland. She was going to miss him and wanted to soak him up before he was gone.

"Layla, your mom's right outside." Dammit, he was losing the battle. The blood was all going south. Her tongue did things to him.

"So?" She paused again and looked at him.

He caught his breath. "Remember what happened the last time we did this when we had company?"

_Ouch._ That incident still hurt. She swore her niece still looked at them funny to this day.

"Your mom's even worse."

She thought about it. For a second. "You know what? We're married and I'm pregnant. I think she already knows I let you do some nasty things to me."

She slipped her hand underneath his Calvin Klein's and squeezed him as she took his mouth again. All the fight in him gone, he soon gave it up. Literally. More than once.

*****

_I am not in labor. I am not in labor._ She repeated the mantra to herself as she sat at her desk late Wednesday morning wondering if this was really it or some Braxton Hicks she had yet to experience. It was nearly lunchtime and she had been having some mild contractions for the past couple hours. Not really knowing what to expect since she'd never done the whole labor bit before, she tried to breathe through each one and pray they were just Braxton Hicks. And ignore that the intervals between them seemed to be getting shorter and the tightening stronger. The baby couldn't be coming yet. She wasn't ready. Of course she didn't know if she was ever going to be ready but there were ten days left until she was due. Ten days. She needed those ten days, dammit!

_Oh...Mmm._ Okay, that one was a little strong. _No, no, no, no, no. Can't be._ She placed both hands on her desk to brace herself. "Come on, Eliana. Mommy's not ready yet." She released a nervous laugh. "Mommy's so not ready yet." It was just Braxton Hicks. That was all. Braxton. Freaking. Hicks. Cristian wasn't home yet. He couldn't miss this. She had told him she would hold her in until he got back. She had had to force him to go and he was so going to kill her if he missed his daughter's birth.

So, she couldn't be in labor. She just couldn't. Releasing a long stream of air, she relaxed as it finally passed. Her phone rang at her desk. Looking at the extension, she saw it was Blair. Picking up the receiver, she greeted her boss and friend. "Hey."

"Hey. You want to do lunch at The Palace, today? This last quarter we just had, I think we deserve it."

Layla closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "Um, you know, I think I'm going to pass today."

Blair frowned. Layla didn't usually turn down lunch at The Palace. The food was damn good. "You sure? Everything okay?"

Layla sighed heavily, still rubbing her forehead. Blair's radar was up already. She was fine. She was not in labor so there was no need to alarm anyone. She. Was. Not. In. Labor. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just kinda not in the mood for it today."

Blair absentmindedly tapped the tip of her pen against her teeth. "Okaaaaay. Well, we'll see you when we get back then, huh?"

"Okay. Have fun." Hanging up the phone, Layla thought about hitting up the cafeteria for a bite while her usual lunch group splurged at The Palace. But then she changed her mind, afraid another one might hit her in the cafeteria. Honestly, she was scared to move and didn't want to trigger anything. She needed to concentrate on willing the _Braxton. Freaking. Hicks_ contractions away and she could best do that right where she was. She had plenty of snacks in her desk drawer to munch on anyway if she did eventually get hungry.

*****

"Hey, Layla, we brought you back some--" Blair halted as she walked into Layla's office nearly two hours after their phone call. Her friend was grimacing behind her desk, her hands clutching her stomach. Rushing over to the desk, Blair dropped the take-out and her purse next to the computer monitor and moved to Layla's side. "Layla, oh my gosh. Are you having contractions?" She waited for Layla to answer between her puffs.

"No," she whispered through the pain.

"No? No my ass. Layla, come on. Let's get you to the hospital." She pulled gently on Layla's arm. She seemed frozen in place.

"It's not supposed to be happening yet, Blair. Cristian's not here." She watched as Blair grabbed her purse for her and let her guide her from behind her desk. "He's going to kill me. I made him go, he's going to kill me!"

"Honey, babies don't care if it's not time yet. Do you know how far apart they are?"

"No! I haven't really been...Just take me home, Blair, okay? I think it's just those Braxton Hicks." Denial wasn't just a river in Egypt.

"The hell they are. Is this why you skipped out on lunch with us today? Why didn't you tell us?" They had reached the end of the hallway when another contraction hit her. She stopped walking and hunched over as she continued with her breathing technique. _Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit! I think she's coming!_ She didn't want to admit it. She _really_ didn't want to admit it.

"Oh my gosh. Is she in labor?" Monica approached them from out of nowhere and addressed Blair.

"Yeah," she said excitedly. "I think our little girl coming."

Keisha hurried over. "Oh my gosh. Layla, what do you need me to do?"

Blair answered. "Her doctor." She turned back to Layla, who was still trying to get past the latest contraction. "Layla, your doctor's number. Is it in your phone? What's her name?" Blair went through Layla's purse in search of her cell phone.

Layla nodded as she breathed. "Rosenburg. It's....It's.....under....Lisa....Rosenburg."

Finding Layla's phone, Blair handed it to Keisha who promptly looked through her contacts for the number.

"Is Cristian even back yet?" Monica asked. Blair gave her the best _Don't bring that up!_ look she could muster as she held onto Layla's arm and rubbed her back.

The contraction finally passed. "No, he's not! He's going to kill me. I shouldn't have made him go."

Wanting to get her moving again as a distraction, Blair continued to help her toward the elevator, Keisha soon returning with Layla's phone. "Okay, I'm going to go call her. I wrote the number down. What hospital are you going to?"

"Um, I'm supposed to go to Memorial." Layla replied as the elevator doors opened.

"Okay, let's go. We've got someone who's ready to meet her mommy."

*****

"Oh, shit! Mmmmm!" Layla tried to focus on her breathing. "Oh my God!" Layla held onto her stomach with her left hand, her right grasping the arm rest on the passenger side door of Blair's car, the knuckles damn near turning white. As impossible as that was.

"Layla, what was that? Two minutes since the last one?" She pressed down on the accelerator even harder.

"What the hell is this?! I thought I was supposed to be in labor for fifteen days like everybody else having their first baby!" She continued to huff and puff.

Blair tried to shrug while swerving in and out of lanes barely avoiding other people's bumpers. She was not trying to deliver a baby in her front seat. She just was not. "They come when they're ready, Layla."

"I can't have her in the car! I can't have her in the car, Blair!" So it wasn't a cab. She didn't care. Her child was supposed to be born in a hospital where all the medical equipment was. Why hadn't she camped out at the hospital like she wanted to? Why???

"You won't! You won't! I've had some babies but I sure as hell don't know how to deliver anybody else's." _A red light?! Hell no,_ she thought as the traffic light ahead turned yellow and then red. Slowing, she looked left and right as they approached and kept right on going. "We'll get there. We're almost there. Hang on."

It was all beginning to become a haze. It felt like the contractions were coming in waves and she couldn't distinguish the end of one from the beginning of another. Everything was happening so fast she felt more panicky and scared than pained. _Pain.....Drugs!_ "Blair!!!" She screamed her name.

"What?! What is it?" Blair jumped as Layla shouted.

"I'm not going to make it to get the drugs!"

_You might not even make it to the hospital!_ Blair kept that thought to herself. She had to be reassuring. "We're going to get there, Layla. Just keep breathing. We're going to get there."

*****

Tires screaming to a halt in front of the emergency room doors, Blair rushed to get her friend out of the car and inside the hospital where a triage nurse promptly yelled for a wheelchair. As a couple nurses began to gather, Layla finally felt her water break. And something else. "Oh my God. She's coming!"

One of the nurses responded. "We know, ma'am." The wheelchair arrived. "Come on, let's get you upstairs so we can--"

"No, no! She's coming! Right now!" She tried to continue breathing through the contractions and every urge her body was making to push. She felt the baby's head pushing it's way out. "Oh my God! I feel her head!"

"Get a gurney!" A different nurse yelled and an orderly promptly raced off to get one. "Ma'am, what's your name?"

"Layla!"

"Okay, Layla. We're going to take care of you, okay?"

It was at that moment, in spite of the fear, chaos, and pain that Layla immediately regretted wearing pants to work that day. Within seconds, the gurney arrived and the male orderly lifted the soon-to-be mother and placed her on the bed. She felt her pants being removed and had another immediate regret. The uber-granny panties she was wearing.

Through all the confusion, Layla saw Blair--who'd remained at her side--move off to the side and be replaced by someone else.

"Hey there. Looks like we've got a baby just impatient to see the world outside, huh? I'm Doctor Keyza. What's your name?"

"Layla!" She cried out yet again, the flurry of activity around her just inside the emergency room lobby only heightening her distress, what with feeling people she didn't know keeping her knees apart and pressing her feet towards her chest exposing her goodies to the whole world. She saw Blair return to her side to hold her hand.

Dr. Keyza spoke again. "Okay, Layla, this little person is definitely here. Give me a good push, now, okay?"

"Okay, Layla, this is it! You're almost there!" Blair felt Layla squeeze her hand as she bore down with all the might she had left, the last hour completely zapping her of energy.

"He's going to miss it, Blair! He's going to miss it!"

"I know, honey, but he's not going to care. He just wants you both happy and healthy, okay? Come on now, squeeze my hand and let's get this show on the road."

Only two pushes later, the newest member of the Vega family made her arrival ten days ahead of schedule weighing five pounds eight ounces and measuring eighteen inches long with a perfect Apgar score.

The tears. They just came flooding. And for the first time in awhile, they were tears of unadulterated joy. As the medical personnel wiped her newborn baby girl off and placed her on her chest, she was in total and complete awe. Too weak to move her arms no matter how much she wanted to, she could only look at her, her eyes and heart wholly captivated by the tiny person wriggling around on her chest. A small cry--quite possibly the most joyous sound she'd ever heard--began to fill her ears. "Oh my God. Oh my God, she's beautiful," she managed to stammer between her tears. Before she knew it, she and her daughter were finally being moved from the lobby to one of the exam rooms while Blair yelled after her that she would call Cristian and her mom.

Excitement oozing from her pores, Blair was almost annoyed when she was asked by a nurse for some information about the patient. "Uh, her name's Layla Vega."

"Do you know her date of birth?"

"Um...." Blair knew her birthday and that she was twenty-seven so she quickly did the math. "November 10th, 1980......Listen, her purse is out in my car, I'll go get it. I'm sure her medical card is in there. I'll be back." Anxious to spread the news, she hurried back out the sliding doors and quickly pulled out her cell while climbing into the driver's seat to find some long term parking.

Remembering Cristian was en route probably somewhere across the Atlantic Ocean at that point, Blair dialed his number trying to decide what kind of message to leave on his voicemail and was surprised when he answered.

"Hello?"

"Cristian?"

"Yeah. Blair? What's up? I just landed at JFK." He had just sat down to prepare for his one hour layover after grabbing his bags and was about to call Layla at work to check on her and let her know he had landed in New York.

"I have the best news for you! Are you sitting down?"

Cristian leaned forward in his chair as he held the phone to his ear. "What?"

"She's here!"

He frowned. "Who?"

"The baby! She's here!"

"What? Blair, this....this isn't funny, you know." The skepticism was written all over his face to anyone sitting around him.

"Cristian, would I lie to you about something like this? The baby is here. Layla just had her not ten minutes ago."

Cristian shot up from his chair, ignorant of the eyes darting toward him from the quick movement. "You're serious?"

"Yes! We're at Memorial. We barely made it. She had her right in the emergency room lobby. She's beautiful, Cristian! She cried a little bit and everything. Congratulations!" She was truly overjoyed. She had wanted this for him for so long and was damn proud of herself having known Layla was the one all along.

His heart was pounding. He couldn't believe it. He absolutely couldn't believe it. His daughter was here? He was a father? _She's here????_

"Cristian? You there?"

"Uh...uh...yeah." He began to pace. _Ay Dios...Ay Dios!_ "Is she...Is she okay? Is Layla okay? Can I...Can I talk to her? Where is she?" _Ay Dios. Ay Dios!_

"I'm parking the car right now. They were cleaning her up when I left. When will you be getting back on the plane?"

"Um....uh...." He rubbed his head. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. She was here. His little angel was here! "Uh, two...no one. One. Uh, one hour layover."

"Okay, she's going to call you as soon as she gets the chance. I promise. Let me get back inside and see how they're doing. I still have to call her mom. Oh, and your mom."

"Okay, uh...Yeah. Thanks."

"Okay."

"Uh, Blair?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"They're really okay?"

"Yes. They're okay. They're perfect."

"Thanks. Tell her.....Tell her I said I love her."

"I will. I have to turn the phone off now, okay? Layla will call you soon."

"Okay."

"I'll talk to you later."

Flipping his phone closed, he felt in a daze. His heart was so swollen from happiness he didn't know how it didn't burst from his chest. He couldn't believe it. He just could not believe it. He had just spoken to Layla that morning and she'd told him she was fine. She had had a little indigestion but she was fine. And here it was, about 3 o'clock on the same day and she had already given birth to their daughter.

And he was stuck at the damn airport!

He had so many questions. What did she look like? Did she have any hair? A little? A lot? He had plenty when he was born. Layla was sporting next to nothing in her baby pictures. Did she look like her beautiful mother? How big was she? Weight? Height? Or was it length? What color were her eyes? What did her cry sound like? Would she stare up into his eyes when he held her?

He had to get home. He had to get home now. He thought about grabbing a rental car and driving the rest of the way at 100 miles per hour. But that would still take longer. As it stood, he still had an hour to wait for the flight from New York to Llanview and another hour in the air until he arrived. Already it was turning into the longest two hours of his life. And then he had to get from the airport to the hospital. And from the parking lot to the building. From the lobby to the elevator. From the elevator to Layla's room....

Still pacing, he tried to talk the patience back into himself. After all, he was a patient man. Always had been. _Calm down. Be patient. You're going to see them. You're going to see them soon._ Damn! Why wasn't he in one of those science fiction movies right now so he could teleport his ass to his family's side? Settling back down into his chair, he bounced his leg nervously and fished for a magazine while he tried to take his mind off the best news he'd ever received in his life.

*****

"Hey, Beautiful."

"I know you are so mad at me, Cristian. I'm so sorry--"

"What? Layla. You just...You just gave me the best gift....ever. She's here and you're both okay. I don't care about anything else."

_That's right. She's here. And that's all that matters._ "Oh my gosh, Cris, she's...." She continued to gaze at her daughter in her arms as she held onto the phone. "She's the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. I know other people say that about their babies, but they're wrong. This is it. This is perfection personified. I can't take my eyes off her." She felt her eyes welling up again and a sob in her throat. "She looks just like your baby pictures. And she's so quiet so far. She's just laying here looking into my eyes.....I think she's looking for you."

He grinned. "Really?"

She could hear the excitement in his voice. "Yeah....Every time somebody walks by the door, she kind of turns to it, like she's looking for somebody. She's looking for you."

His cheeks were beginning to hurt from the strain of grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Tell her...Tell her I'll be there soon."

Layla smiled. "You better. I miss you. You're the only thing missing right now to make this absolutely perfect."

"I miss you, too. So, how are you feeling? Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm tired and I'm sore...I feel like I just had a baby pretty much." She laughed softly. "But it's the best feeling in the world." She thought for a moment. "Okay, second best." Damn, just talking to the man put her mind in the gutter.

"Oh, really?" His grin turned mischievous. And she could tell over the phone. "So how long do we have to go? Couple weeks?"

"Ha ha. Funny. _Six_ weeks, buster. Six weeks."

"Wait. I thought you were going to cut me off completely a couple weeks ago," he teased.

"I was bluffing. I can admit--." She looked down at her daughter. "Oh, what's the matter? You hear Daddy's voice?"

His curiosity piqued. "What's she doing? Does she hear me?"

"She's starting to get antsy," she addressed to him. To her daughter, she automatically shifted into baby talk. "What's the matter, sweet pea? It's Daddy on the phone. Do you hear him?" Although the baby remained quiet, Layla could tell she was excited about something.

"I can't believe I'm stuck at this airport, Layla. It'll be about five when I land and then I'll have to deal with rush hour." He felt so frustrated he could scream.

"I know." She rocked her daughter gently. "It's okay, sweetie. Daddy'll be here soon."

He smiled again, loving hearing his wife talk to their child. She was here. She was really here. "As soon as I can."

"Terrence is still picking you up, right?" That had been arranged prior to his leaving. He didn't want to trouble Layla by making her drive to the busy airport when she was already so uncomfortable and tired.

"Yeah and I need to call him now and make sure he's on time. I can't waste another minute."

At that moment, Layla heard a knock on her door and smiled as Monica, Keisha, and Darryl from work arrived.

"Oh, everybody's starting to get here now. Monica, Darryl, and Keisha are here. Hey," she greeted her friends and co-workers.

Collective "Awwwssss" filled the room as they crept closer to see the newborn.

"Blair went to the house to pick up my mom and I think she said Antonio's on his way with your mom."

"Great." _Great? Everybody's going to meet her before I do!_

"Is that Cristian on the phone? Hi Cris! You missed it!" Keisha greeted him exuberantly as she studied the baby.

Cristian heard her.

"Cris says, 'hi' and he knows he missed it."

"Oh my gosh. She's so precious. Dammit, Layla, what the hell? You're making me think about having some kids!"

Monica spoke up. "Ooh, Layla. Girl, I don't see you in her yet but she's so beautiful."

"I know, ain't it a trip? I carry her around for nine months and she looks like her daddy spit her out!" They all laughed, including Cristian on the other end, feeling even more frustrated and anxious not being able to be there.

After about twenty more minutes, realizing that his flight was about to board, Cristian reluctantly hung up with his wife--and by extension--her three guests. "Okay, I think I have to get ready to get back on the plane." Surprisingly, being on the phone all this time helped. His layover was already over.

"Okay. We'll see you in a little bit. Call me when you land." She proceeded to give him the number to her room.

"I will. Give her a kiss for me. I need to call Terrence really quick and make sure he'll be there on time."

"I will."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

*****

Two hours later, Layla had, surprisingly, successfully nursed her daughter and was glad to feel her confidence at motherhood already building. Even if it was just beginner's luck. Her friends from work had gone home, along with Blair who had to see about her family. In their place were Antonio, Talia, and Jamie, Carlotta and Lisa, and Shaun and Fred. Her grandfather Fred was supposed to be coming in June, but his plans had changed and he had decided to come early, unwittingly on the very day his first great-grandchild was born.

Vincent had stopped by briefly as well to offer his congratulations from both him and Natalie, whom Layla had learned was now his fiancee. She was surprised as they had always seemed to be on an emotional rollercoaster with one another but she was happy for him nonetheless and hoped it all worked out. She would never forget what he had done for her and was happy to be on good terms with him. She'd have to cut down on quasi-insulting him to her brother. Her world was very nearly perfect right now and that translated into well wishes for every damn body, including people she didn't care too much about one way or the other. Read: Vincent's future wife.

Carlotta looked at her watch. "Cristian should be here soon, _mija_, then we should all probably leave. I know you're exhausted."

"Yeah," Lisa rubbed her daughter's arm, "You're barely keeping your eyes open."

"I'm surprised this little peanut isn't sleeping yet." Shaun was in the chair close to Layla's bed holding his niece. She had been passed around to everyone and was just as content as she could be, eyes open, quietly taking everyone and everything in around her. "She's almost as pretty as I was. You did a good job, little sis." He winked.

"Gwen babies are always knock-outs," Fred smiled as he peered over his grandson's shoulder at his beautiful great-granddaughter.

Layla could only look at her brother and smile. The contrast was so striking yet so damn adorable. Big Shaun cradling a tiny baby like he'd done it all his life. That settled it in her mind: she was going to make him settle down and have some kids if it was the last thing she ever did. Then, just like that, a wave of sadness washed over her. Someone was missing and, unlike her husband, wasn't on her way to see the new addition to the family.

"I just can't get over it," Carlotta mused. "She looks just like Cristian did when he was born."

"She's just like him, too. The whole time I was pregnant, he was the only one who could calm her down when I was trying to sleep. And then she would get so excited when she heard his voice after it had been awhile. I'm telling you, they have their own little language or something. I'm going to be so outnumbered."

"He was a good baby. Just so quiet and curious," Carlotta reminisced.

"Oh, not Layla." Layla rolled her eyes. Of course her mother had to chime in. "She just had to be the center of attention and when she wasn't she would definitely let you know."

"Thanks, Mother," Layla added sarcastically and then laughed tiredly. This was truly the most draining day of her life. Emotionally and physically. And she'd had some truly draining days. She was exhausted. She loved her family and friends dearly but she was so ready to send them all home so she could spend some time alone with her husband and their greatest creation to date. And then finally get some much-needed sleep.

"Listen, I'll be back to say goodnight. Gotta use the restroom really quick and then we'll take off. Somebody has to get ready for school tomorrow." Antonio turned his attention to his suddenly pouting daughter before turning to leave the room.

Stepping out into the hallway, he looked around for a restroom but stopped when he saw his brother step off the elevator, a carry-on bag on his shoulder, a huge smile on his face as he locked eyes with his brother.

Antonio walked toward him with a matching smile on his face. "Congratulations, Bro." He wrapped his arms around his little brother and patted his back before releasing him.

"Thanks, man."

"I have to say it. Vega men make the most beautiful babies on the planet." Cristian chuckled as his brother turned and, with his hand on his back, led the new father toward Layla's hospital room.

"I can't believe how long it took me to get here. Is everyone still here?"

"Yeah, but we were going to take off after you got here. Layla needs to get some rest."

"I know it."

Soon they reached the room and Antonio waited for Cristian to enter first. But he stood at the door and didn't move. Realizing his little brother was suddenly nervous as hell, Antonio encouraged him. "Hey." He waited until Cristian turned to face him. "It's going to be a fun ride. You're never going to look back. And you're not going to want to."

Nodding, Cristian turned to face the door again. This was it. He was going to meet his baby girl. And he was suddenly scared to death. What if he couldn't hold her correctly? What if she cried when he held her? What if he got her bottle too warm or accidentally left the baby gate open when she learned how to walk? What if he disappointed her or gave her the wrong advice? What if he turned out to be the worst parent on the face of the earth? "Antonio, I'm...I'm nervous, man. She's so tiny, what if I--"

"What if you go in there and meet your daughter and just do the best you can?"

Looking at his brother again, Cristian slowly nodded, swallowed, and pushed the cracked door open.

There she was. In a pink and blue blanket in her mother's arms. As he stepped fully into the room, he didn't even notice everyone else standing around the bed staring at him with goofy grins on their faces as they were preparing to leave. He just stood there with his mouth half ajar not believing what he was seeing.

Wanting to leave the threesome alone during what he felt should be a private moment, Shaun started the exodus. "Hey, man. Congratulations. We're going to go ahead and take off." Giving his still dumbfounded brother-in-law a quick hug, Shaun bid his sister and niece good night, followed by everyone else in the room.

"_Felicidades, mijo._" Carlotta hugged her baby boy tightly and kissed him on his cheek, her smile beaming when she looked at him and thought about just how very proud she was of him.

After the last visitor had left the room, Layla smiled at her husband, her tears coming back as she saw how nervous he was. And how close they'd recently come to never having this moment together. Turning her attention to the baby, she whispered. "Hey, sweet pea. Daddy's here." She turned back to him, her smile still on her face, her features--in spite of her tears--encouraging.

Swallowing again, a grin slowly began to appear on his face, replacing his awestruck expression. Finally, he found his voice. "Is that really her?"

Layla nodded enthusiastically as she sniffed. "Yep. It's really her." She looked down at her daughter again as she wriggled around in her arms.

Sliding his bag off his shoulder and onto the floor, he took several tentative steps to Layla's bedside, the pull too great to be hindered. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Parents said it about their own kids all the time but his baby girl was honest to God the tiniest, most precious little thing he had ever laid eyes on. He felt his eyes burning as tears began to form. He was speechless. His mouth opened to form a word but nothing escaped. Leaning over the bed, he looked into Layla's face before turning back to his daughter. His _daughter_. How long had he been waiting for this moment? Longer than the seven months since Layla nervously walked into his old studio and told him she was pregnant. He'd always dreamed of having a family. But it took Layla coming into his life and another failed relationship for it to happen. Because God wanted him to start his family with the right woman, the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. The woman he would be connected to through this little girl for the rest of his life.

Coming back down to earth, Cristian slowly took his right hand and delicately touched his newborn daughter's cheek with his index finger, almost too scared to touch her. "Hey, _mi angelita_. You decided to surprise your mommy and me today, huh?" He sniffed as he swore he saw her respond to his words. She was squirming around in her mother's arms and refusing to take her eyes from his. Her beautiful, chestnut brown eyes. She was so tiny, with plenty of soft, dark hair on her head to keep it warm and Layla's nose. It was so Layla's nose.

"Isn't she the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?" Layla sniffed, too. They were both having a hard time keeping the tears from falling down their cheeks and they both didn't give a damn either.

Cristian shook his head in disbelief. "She's absolutely perfect, Layla." He turned to look at her. "She has your nose."

"Really? I don't see it."

"She does. I see it." He touched the tip of his daughter's nose. "I just....I can't believe she's really here." He caressed her face again before reaching down to stroke her tiny left hand, smiling when she reflexively grasped his finger and made the smallest, most adorable grunting noise. He turned to look at his wife again, the woman who had given him this gift. He stared into her eyes for several moments. "I love you so much."

Leaving the baby cradled in her right arm, she took her left and stroked his cheek as he looked into her eyes. "Ditto, buster." She smiled as he leaned forward and kissed her softly before turning his attention back to the tiny angel still holding onto his index finger.

"I love you, too, _mija_. More than you could know." It was so amazing. He'd just met her and had fallen in love already. He didn't know how his heart had room for all the love he felt for the two people in the room with him.

"Here." Layla carefully shifted the baby in her arms. "Hold her."

Reluctantly pulling his finger from his daughter's grasp, a nervous pang hit him once again at the thought of finally holding her, but he didn't have time to react as Layla placed their baby in his strong arms. Making sure he was supporting her head, his smile lit up the entire room as he settled down into the chair at Layla's bedside. She felt so fragile he was afraid to move and tried to keep as still as possible. He couldn't remember the last time he had held a baby and smelled that baby smell.

Watching them intently, Layla sighed blissfully and couldn't keep the almost permanent grin off her face as she listened to him speak to her completely captivated daughter in English and Spanish. She loved watching the pride and joy on his face as he acquainted himself with their new arrival.

A few minutes later, they heard a knock on the door and watched as the nurse on duty appeared. "Hi, Layla, how are we doing?"

"We're good." She looked at her husband and child. "We're still just getting acquainted."

"Is this Daddy?" The nurse asked, indicating Cristian. At their positive response she continued. "Glad you made it."

Tearing his eyes away from his daughter's just for a second, he replied, "Me too."

After checking on her two patients and some more smalltalk, the nurse began to excuse herself. "Well, it looks like I'm not even needed!" All three chuckled as she continued. "Listen, it's completely up to you but if you want me to take Alejandra to the nursery for the night so you can get some sleep just let me know. If not, we can keep her in here for the night. Whatever works for you is perfectly fine, okay?"

Cristian's head shot up at "Alejandra" and turned to his wife, not bothering to hide his confusion. Ignoring his questioning eyes, Layla asked the nurse to come back in an hour so Cristian could spend more time with their newborn baby girl before sleeping arrangements were made. Quietly exiting, the nurse left them to their own devices.

"Alejandra?" He asked softly.

Biting her bottom lip, Layla shrugged. "What do you think?"

He didn't know what to say. She wanted to give their daughter his middle name?

"I think it fits her. I didn't really know it until I met her but....I like it. She's just so chill already, just like you. And it sounds perfect with her middle name. Alejandra Mahari Vega."

He shook his head. He still didn't know what to say. He didn't deserve this. None of it. This kind of heaven on earth just could not exist. But it did. For him, at this moment, for once, it finally did. Smiling, he looked down at his daughter. _Alejandra Mahari Vega._

His life was officially complete.

*****

"Janet, page Dr. Jackson." The nurse stuck her head out her patient's door. "She's awake." Heading back into the room and over to her bed, she spoke softly. "Evangeline? Everything's okay. You're in the hospital. I'm Betty, a nurse. Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

_Hospital?....What?_ She looked around. Confused. _Hospital?_ She moved her head from left to right. Something was missing. Where was he? The last time she'd woken up in a hospital he was there. By her side. And the time before that, when she was blinded during the tornado. Did he just step out? Her throat painfully dry, she asked, "Is Cristian here?"

**THE END**


	24. Epilogue

**Untitled: An Epilogue**

Layla ran the wide-toothed comb through her layered, shoulder-length hair as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She was wearing a navy blue pencil skirt suit that stopped just above her knees, not really sure what to wear to a courthouse wedding.

"I think everybody's ready to go, Layla." She heard Cristian call to her from downstairs. She glanced at her watch. She was surprised. It took the four of them forever and a day to get out of the house, even for just a few hours, and they were actually on time today? Layla shook her head. It was still hard to believe she had two kids under the age of two. She literally cried when she found out she was pregnant again--three months after giving birth to Alejandra. It was the most overwhelming feeling ever. She still couldn't figure out how concurrent breast feeding and birth control pills had failed them. They didn't know how the hell people with twins did it. She and Cristian were constantly exhausted and treasured their date nights every other Saturday when their trusted friend and babysitter--a woman they'd met at their new church--would watch their children. But looking back, six-month-old Diego James--his grandfathers' namesake--was an absolute blessing and complete joy to have around the house whom she could not imagine her life without, just like his sister. As she got older, Alejandra began to look more and more like her mother and had her father's sensitivity and quiet intensity. Diego, on the other hand, was the spitting image of Cristian and was already a little rambunctious in his young age. He was going to be a riot when he got older.

With another baby coming, their decision to move into a house in a New York suburb had been instigated. Although they were planning to wait a year or two after Alejandra arrived to move out of the condo, another child coming meant they needed more room and soon. Cristian's career had outgrown Llanview and Lindsay's operation, and a move to New York--still close enough to Llanview for those family visits--had planted itself in his mind. Although she would miss her friends and family, Layla had been more than ready to move as well and managed to snag a job working at In Style magazine after staying home with Alejandra late in her second pregnancy up until Diego was a few months old. Also, when the children got older, she wanted to ease herself back into the acting game. On the stage. One day Broadway. She smiled softly to herself at that thought. Still, there was another reason for her wanting to move. And it had everything to do with the two-and-a-half hour trip back to Llanview they were about to make for a wedding: her sister. Who was about to marry John McBain.

Layla sighed. Their relationship would never be the same. And she honestly didn't know if it was because of the coma, Cristian, or a combination of both. She wanted to blame the coma. It wasn't a stretch. People recovering from comas sometimes suffered from emotional instability and personality changes. But a small part of her hadn't been sure if that was all. Their family, friends, and medical personnel they'd spoken with about Evangeline all agreed that was it but Layla had started feeling the guilt all over again after telling her when she woke up. And getting pregnant again so soon, she had felt, had compounded it all, like she was rubbing her new life with Cristian in her sister's face. She sighed again. _Well, at least it wasn't a Kelly-Kevin-Duke situation, right?_ Turning the light off in the bathroom, Layla headed downstairs, picked up a giggling eighteen-month-old Alejandra from her perch on the couch while Cristian grabbed Diego's infant car seat and the extra large diaper bag, and they all headed into the garage.

On the ride, Layla's thoughts again wandered back...

*****

Less than two days after Alejandra's birth, the family of three along with Layla's mother drove to Atlanta to welcome Evangeline back. It was a little too soon for the baby to fly so they'd opted to drive, wanting to get there as soon as possible. Lisa had tried to talk her daughter into waiting a little while before making the trip, what with just having given birth to her first child, but she had refused. She was dying to see her sister's eyes opened again along with her bright smile after all this time.

Nevertheless, the tension in the car was palpable. There was excitement. There was anticipation. And there was fear. While all three were thrilled that Evangeline was awake after spending an entire year in a coma, there was an unspoken foreboding present that each one of them was feeling.

Cristian drove the car silently, wondering how strange it was going to be speaking to Evangeline again after having fallen so deeply in love with her sister in her absence. Though any romantic feelings he had toward her had long dissipated, he still cared about her and feared he may have permanently damaged the sisters' relationship. Even though that didn't stop him from forging ahead with a life with Layla, and he was never one to shy away from difficulties, he had to admit it had been easier not having to deal with it directly. Despite her myriad of wonderful traits, Evangeline was not very adept at compromise. It was a great characteristic to have as a lawyer determined to win for her clients but he feared that inflexible, my-way-or-the-highway attitude wouldn't bode well for Layla's relationship with her. And that was all he was concerned about: Evangeline not cutting Layla off and loving her new niece --the only true innocent in all of this--to pieces. She could be angry with him, fine. He would probably deserve it. But he did not want his wife and daughter to suffer from the decision he made almost a year ago to make love to her sister and subsequently claim that sister's heart forever melded to his.

Lisa sat in the front passenger seat trying to find a comfortable position. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in the middle of her two children. Layla marrying and having children with Evangeline's ex-boyfriend hadn't been a real problem until now. They all forced it to the background and carried on with their lives without her as best they could. She honestly didn't know what Evangeline's feelings were after her break-up with Cristian. All she knew was that it hadn't ended on the best of terms and they were apparently moving on from one another. But had Evangeline moved on? In her heart? Did she feel her cheating was a horrible mistake and wish she could take it all back? Lisa knew all about that kind of mistake. From what she had seen of him, Cristian was a good man with a good heart and a compassionate, fiercely protective nature. A lot like Layla. Was her oldest child thinking about making amends to get that relationship back? And what about Cristian? Would he be tempted once he saw her alive and well again in spite of his love for Layla? And Layla. She was a brand new mother, her emotions all over the place as her body adjusted to the change in hormones once again. What about her? How would she handle it? She knew there had to be more guilt in her daughter's heart right now. Not only had she gotten a family while her only sister remained frozen in time for a year, she had gotten it with that sister's former love. Lisa sighed. It was impossible to control the heart but she'd always known this situation was like a time bomb. One that had finally gone off.

Layla sat in the back seat next to her daughter silently chewing the inside of her bottom lip. There was a war being waged inside her. One team was absolutely ecstatic that its prayers had been answered. She was going to get her big sister back and the large hole in her heart was going to close itself up. The other team, however, was fighting to take that joy away. How was she going to do it? How was she going to tell her sister what had happened while she was gone? Evangeline was still in 2007. She was still getting over a break-up with Cristian and doing who knew what with Todd while he was looking for his son, all while trying to move on with her life. How was she going to walk into that room and tell her sister she was a mother now? She was a wife now? She was in love? All due to one man: Cristian. Her Cristian. How? How was she going to tell her it all happened in the span of a year? That they'd started their life together not even four months after she slipped into the coma? She looked over at Alejandra sleeping soundly in her car seat. _That sweet, innocent baby._ They were going to get through this. They had to. If for no other reason, for that beautiful little girl. Still, she felt that unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach refusing to budge.

Layla finally broke the silence. "Mom?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Do you think we can leave the baby with Aunt Ginny and Uncle E.W. when we go see Vange?"

Lisa nodded. "I'm sure they won't mind. Everybody's going to want to see her anyway." Lisa turned around in her seat to face her daughter. "If not, I can watch her while the three of you talk."

Layla swallowed and nodded. Why did part of her wish her mother would be there when they gave Evangeline the news? Watching Lisa turn back around in her seat, Layla hesitated a few moments. "Do you think we can wait a little bit? I don't want to tell her as soon as we see each other."

Lisa sighed. "It's up to you but I don't know how you're going to keep it from her for any length of time. You know how she is. She's going to want to know what's happened while she was gone." Lisa turned around again and spoke seriously. "Besides, you just had a baby. It shows." She pointed at her daughter's chest before turning back around. "I know this is hard for you but it's even harder for Evangeline. We can't treat her like she's fragile or an invalid. She would hate that. The two of you made the decision to be together and start a family. You need to deal with the fallout so everybody can move on." She turned yet again, this time to look at her granddaughter. "Because that little girl isn't going anywhere."

Cristian remained silent as he listened to the exchange. Lisa was right. Slight anxiety aside, he was going to do his damnedest to right this situation for the light of his life sleeping blissfully unaware in that car seat.

*****

Leaving Alejandra in her Aunt Ginny Mae and Uncle E.W.'s care, Layla and Cristian rose from the couch to get ready to head to the facility that had become Evangeline's home. They had dropped Lisa off on the way into town as she didn't want to wait another minute to see her daughter after all this time. Informing them that she would tell Evangeline they would be stopping by soon, Lisa added that she would not interfere with what they had to tell her oldest child and how they wanted to do it. Their other family members who had been visiting with Evangeline already knew the deal and would not let anything slip until Layla and her husband arrived. They knew it wasn't their place.

Knowing she would have to be back in a couple of hours tops to feed their daughter, Layla and Cristian kissed her goodbye and climbed back into the Honda. Arriving outside Evangeline's door, they stopped and looked at one another. Layla was feeling the trepidation all over again. She was so exhausted, in no way adjusted to motherhood and all it entailed after only two days, and it was adding to her already heightened emotional distress. She had done this before, and it almost felt like a repeat of several months ago when she had made her initial confession. But this time, she was married, a mother, and her sister, the sister she had missed so much, would definitely hear every word.

Sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, Cristian faced his wife and looked into her eyes. "Are you ready?" He had prayed over this. Left it in hands greater than his. At this point, they needed to lay it all out on the table and let the chips fall where they may.

She looked back into his eyes for several moments. She usually found strength there. Releasing a ragged sigh, she answered, "No." She turned and looked at the door. "But I have to do this. She's my sister. Nothing's going to change that, right?" She really needed to believe that. No matter what, the woman in that room was her blood.

Nodding, he took his hands out of his pockets, grabbed Layla's left hand in his right, and stepped forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. Without waiting for her to give him the go ahead, he used his other hand to push the door open to his sister-in-law's room.

"Layla? Cristian?" Layla watched as a tired smile spread across her sister's features. Her _sister_. It was crazy how it hit her all of a sudden. She'd missed her almost constantly in the past year but she didn't know just how much until now. The waterworks started before she knew it.

"Vange." Rushing over to her sister's bedside, she sat on the edge and grabbed her. "Vange. Oh my God. I missed you so much." Evangeline felt frail and even thinner than she normally was but that didn't stop Layla from squeezing her to death in spite of her own sore chest. Together, the sisters cried in each other's arms, Lisa rising from her chair to stand by Cristian who stood at the foot of the bed swallowing back a sob. He had wanted this for Layla so badly. Antonio had had to deal with his "death" and he couldn't imagine having to deal with losing his brother like that. Like Layla had had to deal with the loss of her sister.

As they finally pulled apart, they looked into one another's eyes still holding each other at arm's length. Layla moved her hands from her sister's arms to cup her face, getting used to looking into those eyes again before pulling her into her arms again. Lisa patted Cristian's arm before quietly leaving the room.

"Oh my God." Sniffing and trying to catch her breath, Layla released her sister again and swiped at her tears with the back of her hand before reaching down to grasp Evangeline's hands in hers. "How do you feel? Are you okay? Are you--do you feel like you left me for a whole year?" She teased while shaking her head in awe again. "You don't know how much I missed you."

Evangeline continued to hold on weakly to her sister's hands. "I can't believe any of this, Layla. I feel like....I feel like I was just asleep for a second. I wake up and they tell me I've been in a coma for a year..." She shook her head. "I'm just....I'm still so confused, you know? I can't even describe it--" She stopped abruptly and looked up, remembering Cristian's presence as he shifted at the foot of her bed. She smiled at him. It really had been awhile because she remembered him being clean-shaven. He was looking like he had just before that devastating tornado, the last time she'd seen him with the longer hair and goatee. Just as handsome as ever. She was so touched he had driven Layla and their mom down to Atlanta on such short notice. From what she had gathered, her mom had been in Llanview visiting Layla when she'd woken up. She was sure Cristian had taken it upon himself to look out for her little sister while she was gone. It was the way he was. "Cris...hey."

She had so many amends to make. So many. Especially to him. She had thought about it for the past two nights. All the things she'd done wrong. When she woke up she had been looking for him until she remembered they weren't together anymore. There was nothing like waking up one day and finding out a year had gone by. A whole year had gone by without her telling him how she felt and how sorry she truly was. As the last moments before she lost consciousness began to come back to her, so had everything she had been feeling. Regret. Anger with herself. She hadn't gotten over him yet and had been trying to act as though she had. Why had she done what she did? Belittle his importance to her for Todd? Not just at the end of their relationship but throughout? And for what? To end up all alone in her stubborn determination to place blame on Cristian for her own failings.

He smiled. "Welcome back." He shook his head in marvel. "It's so hard to believe you were gone for so long. All of us--we missed you." He paused and looked deliberately into her eyes so she could see the sincerity in his next statement. "I'm really glad you're okay." There was no bitterness left in him. There hadn't been in a long time. There wasn't any room for any.

Layla looked back at him while he spoke and then her sister again. "And Nora. She missed you like crazy, too. We left so fast we didn't even have a chance to call her. Speaking of which, she's going to kill me."

Evangeline turned back to her sister and smiled wistfully. "Nora...." She now had something else in common with her best friend. Recovering from blindness and now a coma. Now that she thought about it, maybe she needed to distance herself from Miss Nora. "How is she? Bo and Matthew?"

"They're okay. They're doing really well. Nora's--" Layla stopped as she followed her sister's eyes to their joined hands.

"Layla," Evangeline spoke Layla's name inquisitively as she lifted her sister's left hand.

Layla's breath caught in her throat. She had forgotten all about them: her engagement ring and wedding band. And she was worried her fuller face and figure would give it all away. She looked back up at her sister, her eyes wide as she frantically searched for the words.

"You got married? I missed your wedding?" Evangeline's eyes found Cristian's in her surprise. She watched as he lowered his head. It was the first thing she noticed that seemed off. He was suddenly subdued and avoiding her eyes. She turned back to her sister who had turned to Cristian as the questions began to pile up in her mind. Who had she married? Why was Cristian driving Layla and their mom to Atlanta instead of Layla's husband? It wasn't Vincent was it? Lord, tell her it wasn't Vincent and he just couldn't get away from whatever "business" he was involved in. If it _was_ Vincent she would have to try to be happy for her sister and avoid asking her if she'd lost her mind. Not sure she really wanted to know, she asked regardless. "Who's the lucky guy?"

Cristian took a deep breath. Even though they knew what they had to do, Layla had been caught off guard and her eyes looking back at him told him as much. He watched as she turned back to Evangeline before he decided to open the dam. There was nothing else to do. "I am." He took his eyes from the back of Layla's head and focused on his sister-in-law.

Layla swallowed as her heart completely stopped.

Evangeline cocked her head to the side slightly in surprise. Her face went from shock to confusion to hurt to confusion and shock again. They watched as she tried not to react to the news. They watched as she tried and failed.

It was like someone punched her in the gut. They were _married_? What? She fought with everything she had--and it wasn't much given her already weakened condition--to keep her expression neutral. "What?" She unconsciously pulled her hands from her sister's, recoiling from her.

Layla saw her eyes asking her "why" and found herself turning away while she scrambled to find the right words. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Never had she ever had to endure such a painfully conflicting conversation before in her life. Finding out her father wasn't her father was a cakewalk compared to this. The first time she told her sister didn't count. This was the real deal now.

She had to find her voice. She was a grown woman who made the grown decision to climb into that bed with Cristian last year and subsequently change all of their lives forever, and she had to face the consequences like a grown woman. Taking a deep breath, she found Evangeline's eyes again and nodded. Softly, she vocalized the few words she had finally managed to find. "Cristian and I....we got married this past January." She searched her sister's eyes desperately, for what she wasn't entirely sure. Forgiveness? Acceptance? The absence of disgust or anger? But all she saw was confusion and hurt.

Cristian rounded the bed slowly and settled into the chair at Evangeline's bedside next to his wife who was still perched on the bed.

Evangeline nodded as her mind tried to wrap itself around the bombshell. Why was she feeling sucker punched? She had no right to be. It wasn't like she expected Cristian to still be single and waiting for her all this time. _....Right?_ So her sister had married her former boyfriend in the year she was in a coma. So what? They had always been friends. So they leaned on one another for support after the attack. It had been known to happen. "Oh." It was all that came out. She forced a smile to her face. "Well....Congratulations." It came out forced. It _was_ forced. She was still in shock and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide it.

"Vange....I don't....I don't know what to say right now....I know this seems so wrong. I never thought....I didn't...." Layla shook her head. Why wasn't she finding the words? She looked down at her hands. She knew why. There were no words. Period. Her head jerked toward her husband when he quietly began speaking.

"Sometimes you meet someone and you expect it......You decide you're interested and you work to get to know her better. But sometimes...." He shook his head. "Sometimes you're not looking for it and it finds you." He studied his hands. "And then you struggle with it because it doesn't seem right....circumstances...."

_So I'm a circumstance now?_ Evangeline shook her head and smiled, looking from Cristian to her sister. Out loud she said, "You don't have to explain anything to me. I'm just surprised, you know?" But that was a lie. She wanted an explanation. She needed one.

"Yes we do. We do have to explain--" Layla started.

Shaking her head forcefully this time, Evangeline stopped her. "No, no you don't. As long as you're happy...."

"Vange--"

"Layla, it's okay. Really." _Really_. Quickly, everything she had wanted to say to Cristian went out the window. Even though it had been over a year for him, she had wanted to make things right between them. For her peace of mind. But now that he'd married her sister, it seemed pointless. It _was_ pointless. They were finished. Given time, she would get over it. If she hadn't messed up in the first place, things would have been different. It was her fault. She had to deal with it. "I'm just glad it wasn't Vincent."

At this, a small smile crept to Layla's face. She was teasing. It was a good sign. "Oh, hell no." Grateful for the small moment of levity, she was glad to get their attention focused on something else, if only for a little while. "He's about to marry Natalie."

_Huh?_ "Buchanan?"

Layla nodded. "Mmm-hmm." Although she was tempted, she refrained from telling her the news about Shaun. That he was her brother. Their being biologically half-sisters was something else Evangeline needed to be told. But that was something for them and their mother to discuss later. This was already too much.

"So you all just kind of switched partners while I was gone, huh?" She didn't mean for it to come out the way it did. She had meant it in a joking manner but her tone was a bit caustic. She could care less about Natalie and Vincent right now. Cristian just went from being her love to her brother-in-law in a flash. She had had no time to get over him but he'd evidently had plenty to get over her. _Brother-in-law....Oh my God._

Layla's feelings again plummeted as she looked at her husband. He looked at her and shrugged slightly. Because he knew as well as she did that that shit was pretty much true. Toss in John McBain and they'd have a Jerry Springer line-up on lock. She turned back to her sister. "I know this is crazy, Vange."

_Hell yes it is. It is crazy._ Had they had feelings for one another all along? It wasn't like this was five years after her split from Cristian. "Layla, it's okay. If you're happy, I'm happy. I can't blame you...." She let her voice trail off. She didn't need to say it. Cristian was easy to fall in love with. Obviously, she knew firsthand. But she didn't dare say it out loud.

What was she doing? She had to stop this. After losing her life and having it miraculously given back to her, she couldn't be this way. She couldn't begrudge her own sister her happiness. No matter how hard it was, she had to try to accept it. Layla had always had her back and would never hurt her. And she had to admit, neither would Cristian. No matter how much it stung, she had to at least try not to cheapen whatever it was Layla and Cristian had. It was bigger than her. Hell, it didn't even involve her. Because she knew Cristian wasn't going to get married again until he was good and ready, and something he had with Layla that he hadn't had with her had made him ready. She had to make peace. She had to get over him.

Lisa opened the door to the room quietly and got Cristian's attention. Motioning for him to come out, she waited in the hall. When he made it, she refrained from asking how it was going and instead told him his daughter was getting hungry and needed her mother. She had just gotten off the phone with Layla's aunt. In their haste to get to Atlanta immediately after the birth, Layla hadn't yet gotten on a schedule with feedings.

Re-entering the room, Cristian hesitated momentarily. They still hadn't told Evangeline about her niece. "Layla," he waited until she turned to face him. "We're going to have to go for a little bit."

Layla looked at her watch, understanding what he meant. It hadn't even been that long. And, though she would never admit it, she was feeling trapped in that room and wanted the fresh air. This wasn't going in any of the ways she imagined. Her sister wasn't thrilled for them even though she knew the chance of that happening was even smaller than minuscule. But she wasn't raising hell either. She was somewhere in the middle and it was unsettling. It was awkward. And she hated it. She hated herself for putting this on her sister after a year-long coma. And she still hadn't told her she had just given birth to Cristian's baby.

Wondering what little code they were communicating in, Evangeline probed. "You have to go?"

"Yeah....but I'll be back, though." _Good God, Layla, just get it all out. Do it._ She took a deep breath. "We...." She sighed. "We have a little girl....too. She's just a couple of days old. I think Aunt Ginny just called because she's getting hungry."

Evangeline took a ragged, deep breath. Why did that punch to her gut feel more forceful than the first? Just when she was beginning to make peace with their marriage..._A baby. They have a baby, too. Okay. It's fine. That's nine months and I was gone for twelve. They didn't waste any time._ It seemed like yesterday she had thought she was pregnant with Cristian's child. "Wow. You...you just had her. Congratulations. I bet she's beautiful."

Layla swallowed. She could always tell when her sister was fronting. "She is. I can't wait for you to meet her." Of all the men in the world, she had to fall in love with Cristian Vega. Of all the single, attractive, treat-you-like-a-queen, self-made, talented men. There was so much she couldn't share with her sister, the one person she wanted to share those moments with the most. She couldn't tell her how beautiful and poignant her Puerto Rican wedding was. She couldn't gush over the proposal on the Eiffel Tower and the whirlwind three-day engagement. She couldn't enthuse about how her husband had taken care of her while she was miserable and pregnant in spite of what he had been going through, or about the beautiful mural he'd painted for his daughter. She couldn't tease her about losing the bet that Evangeline would become a mother first. She couldn't share her joy and fear about motherhood and how her entire life changed the moment Alejandra took her first breath and cried her first cry. She couldn't even share why she'd wanted to give her child her first name. Everything came back to the same caveat: _This was supposed to be your life_. Only it wasn't. It couldn't have been. Because what she shared with her husband was so profound, so impenetrable, there was no way it was a fluke, no way it wasn't meant to be.

"Bring her by later if you can. I'd love to see her."

Layla nodded again, fighting desperately to hold back her tears. She had to get out of there. She needed some air. "We will. We'll be back, okay?" Leaning forward, she kissed her sister on the forehead before pulling her into her arms. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too."

Slowly rising from her position, Layla joined her husband at the foot of the bed. A contemplative expression on his face, he spoke softly. "You know what?" He waited for Layla to face him. "Why don't you take the car and go ahead?"

She studied him carefully before nodding her head. She got it. "Okay." Forcing a smile to her face, she walked out of the room. Dropping the facade, she walked right past her mother without a word. She didn't feel like talking. She didn't feel like listening. All she wanted to do was leave and hold her daughter, her precious angel. It was the only peace she could find right now, the only calm in the storm.


End file.
